Blue Days
by Koi Carp
Summary: To escape the hands of that psychopath, to get rid of my hopeless feelings for my friend, to forget about that abandoner... I just wanted it all to end, but I made it through somehow, thanks to him. Kyman, Style and K2.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N- New multi-chap! I'll try and shut up in my as much as I can in this one. This is going to be eventual K2 but Kenny won't come out for a while (I have written up to chapter 4 and Kenny won't be coming until at least 6, I'm so excited!). …I'm really nervous publishing this now…**

**Disclaimer- I don't own the characters.**

**Warning- Rated M for later chapters: N/C, language, sex, themes… I'll warn you when it comes.**

**Hope you enjoy~**

* * *

_Blue Days_

_The piercing sound of a whistle announced the time for my departure and in any second, the doors would close in between us. _

_The frozen air soaring through the open doors pierced my skin and made my scars throb underneath my baggy coat. _

_But the snow was gentle and soft that day, it felt like feathers brushing my cheeks. It was a nice feeling. Those days I was craving for any form of gentleness. _

_And then there he was: the last gentle thing. He slid something out of his bag, something rectangular and heavy. His lips parted ever so slightly, only to shut before any words could come out. But then he parted them again._

'_Kyle, I-'_

_It became the last thing he gave me, before the doors shut on him; the continuous beeping was our count down. _

_He gave it to me, although it turned out incomplete._

_On the other side of the doors, on the other side of the glass, he pressed his hand onto the frozen surface, the beeping still in our ears. His lips moved again, and then this time, I could hear it and it made me smile. _

_I outstretched my own hand, slightly smaller and paler, and placed it on top of his, divided by the glass. But I thought I could feel his warmth. The gentleness. The train moved, and it disappeared. But it was still there. It came with me._

_Another thing that came with me, weighing my arm down along with all my bags in attempt to pull my arm out of its socket, was a book. I forced it, with great difficulty, into one of my bags before moving to my seat. I didn't plan to look at it until I arrived at my new home._

_With my thin arms hiding under my baggy jacket, I struggled to put my bag into the over-head shelf. Someone, a fairly built man with greasy hair and spiky whiskers, offered a hand and slid my bag in its place for me. There, another kindness. It was embarrassing, but I appreciated it._

'_Thank you,' I said quickly with a tensed smile. I had to get used to that word. _

_My seat was by the window. The view had already turned into speed-lines by the time I sat down. The station was already in the distance, impossible to make out any details. But I swear I saw him still standing there. _

_I didn't feel sorrow as the station merged into the horizon. No tears began to well up or anything. _

_Maybe it was because I was waiting for this moment forever. To say goodbye to every single fucking thing that made up and dictated the eighteen years of my life. _

_Or maybe it was because I knew that the only person I would possibly miss was the one person I knew I was going to see again. Some day. I knew it. And until that day…_

_I moved my lips into a small 'goodbye' and leaned my forehead against the ice-cold window. Letting the cold cool my head. It suddenly felt hot, and it was like my brain had turned into a sharp heavy stone rattling and grinding against my skull. _

_I closed my eyes and tried hard not to remember what I had been through. To forget about the three main people that had changed my life. Well, changed what I would come to call my youth, at least. And yeah, consequently, my life, I guess. _

_It would take me longer to be able to have dreamless sleeps. _

_And now, they were covered in snow. Heavy, sharp, piercing snow. Fall on me gently, just like acid. _

_._

_._

_._

_Chapter One: Blue Besties_

Best friends can't last forever. I know this, because I've seen best friends break apart before my eyes.

When I was in elementary I had three best friends, the four of us could not be separated. But when one separated, as if he was a pillar, the rest of us just collapsed to the ground and slowly drifted apart from each other.

But before I get into that let me just wake up, in the present time of this story. When I'm still in the bright days of high school living day-by-day. Well, the brightest of the days at least, in hindsight. While I was still oblivious, ignorant and fairly happy.

Let the blind little me just wake up and soak in the new Monday morning sun that pierces your eyes to welcome you into the new school week ahead.

'Wake up Kyle! You're going to be late for school bubbe!'

I lifted my mouth from the pillow just enough to shout, 'I'm awake ma!'

Half lie, half true.

Monday mornings are the worst. I didn't hate school yet, but it still didn't stop me from despising the mornings.

At least I wasn't a girl. Getting ready for me meant splashing water over my face, brushing my teeth, digging myself through layers of random clothes and maybe stuffing a piece of fruit or bread in my mouth on the way out if I had the time. Fifteen minutes tops, with a drowsy mind.

Autumn was cooling down, getting ready for the end and to merge into winter. I kicked my heels on the asphalt, trying to keep myself warm as I rushed to the bus stop.

Today he was there, on top of that, before me for a change. The figure with straight brown hair, light hazel eyes almost like smoke, and a large body made of armour.

'Hey fatass.'

'Sup Jew.'

That was our greeting, between Eric and me. Eric Theodore Cartman, the fatass of the town. Being protected from the cold with 200 pounds wrapped around him.

Now before you say 'Half of that looks more like muscle than fat', believe me when I say this, but all that _was_ once fat. Some of it just turned into muscle when he picked up sports and proper diet (you're meant to laugh there). But fatass was his label. He would always be the signature fatass of the town.

The only thing is, is that he didn't care being called a fatass now. Maybe because he knew that it was only half true. And about the same time the venom put into the word "Jew" from his anti-Semitic mouth had moulded into something more like a nickname. Like me calling him a fatass, he would call me a Jew. And I didn't mind being called that now either.

'Why aren't you at morning training?'

'Meh. Slept in.' That was him. And that was why that last half of his body was still blubbery fat.

We stood side-by-side at the old school bus stop. The bus stop we've been waiting at for over ten years of our lives was decorated beautifully with fallen leaves. They cracked under my feet like the cackling of pop candy in my mouth as I kicked them around. It was hard to say how much we had changed over the years. It seemed like we haven't had changed at all.

Well, one clear change was, the number of us waiting at the bus stop. It was two today, but normally it was just one: me. Three down, one to go.

'Come on Eric, are you coming or not!' I twisted and called out to the dazed brunet staring blankly at my back. He shook his head to life and smirked, following right behind me into the bus.

'Morning Butters.' Eric grinned at the blond boy sitting alone as we took our seats behind him. In response, Butters jumped, shoulders tensing into a straight plank, and he jittered his nervous eyes to face us.

'He-heya Kyle, Eric...'

I smiled at him and scrunched his spiky blond hair friendlily. The guy really needed more confidence. He would brush his sleeve against someone and won't forgive himself until he apologised his lungs out.

If only I had paid more attention, I would've noticed that he wasn't always like that. That in some point in time that is what he had become. If I had paid attention, could much have changed for my high school life? Maybe? No. Probably not.

No one else noticed either though. No one hardly ever notices the change in others, especially when it matters most. And they probably never will.

Butters wasn't a tiny shrimp, or a fucking twig, well, he wasn't short or skinny at all really. He had a good finger length on me and his round cheeks were tempting to poke. But maybe that was it. That round softness about him maybe made him look, I don't know, weaker than he actually was. The baby blue that he wore didn't help him look any more bulky either. But I knew he was tall. It's hard to ignore it when our eyes are clearly not level.

And I wasn't _that_ short either. My twig-like frame just made me look that way, like Butter's roundness affected him.

I stared out the window, not paying attention as Eric leaned forward to whisper into the blonde's ear in front of us. Butters jolted though, at whatever the fatass said, to which I smacked Eric and told him to stop teasing Butters. But he only chuckled amusingly and sank back into his spot next to me. I went back to looking out the window until we reached school.

'Quick! The fucking bus is late again!' I puffed as I quickly rolled out of the bus, hearing the morning school bell go. Butters danced his clumsy legs behind me as Eric cursed under his breath.

'As if it matters if we're late! It's all the bus's fucking fault!'

But I ignored his whining and moved my thin legs inside my baggy pants. Everything I wore seemed to be baggy. Well, I guess that's what you get when you trust your mum for clothes shopping. At least I didn't care about fashion, which some people might find weird, or unexpected.

I had somehow lost Eric and Butters during my immense speed of running, but I didn't even stop to look back. I pumped the small muscles in my legs to sprint to class before the last bell went.

The only thing that ended up stopping me was the rock of a person turning around the corner, just in perfect time for me to crash into. It was like that time I was forced to play football in sport. I was sent flying to the ground.

'Ah… Sorry,' I mumbled as I rubbed my sore ass. The guy I slammed into was like a concrete wall, I swear. I bounced straight off of him and onto my butt without even making him rock back a couple of steps from the impact.

'Kyle?'

My hand stopped.

That voice…

I looked up, and of course, the guy standing atop of me made of a concrete wall, was my friend, still in his football training gear.

'Hey Stan,' I smiled.

'Hey,' a light smile framed with his warm blue eyes beamed down onto me. 'You should really stop running in the corridors dude. You might kill yourself someday.' He said, lifting me up onto my feet. 'I mean, class and safety? Dude, prioritise.'

'Um, class and safety? Definitely class." I joked, well, not really, and subtly rubbed my hand he had hoisted me up with. The skin was burning already and I was desperate to get rid of it, before the heat could travel to my face.

'Well, you better go dude, if you want to make it to class.' He shook his silky ebon hair out of his eyes to take a better look of me. It was enough to make my stomach shrivel up, so I took it as my cue to leave.

"Oh shit!" I said, and took off.

Stan. Stanley Randall Marsh, training quarterback for the South Park High football team and future captain. Kind-hearted, good-looking, friendly… He would become one of the most popular kids in school, and definitely for all the right reasons. But before that, he was my friend. Before that, once upon a time, he was my Super Best Friend.

Oh, it seemed so long ago.

Now, touching him made my stomach flip and made my skin burn. Don't ask me why. I promise I will tell you later.

I looked back unconsciously before pushing one of the corridor doors open, just in time to see him turn around the corner in the distance.

I was definitely late now. I would just have to go to class with my bag.

.

'Pass the water,' God, why does everyone have to shlout in the cafeteria? Seriously, the only way to communicate in that pit is to shout at the top of your lungs. "Craig! Would You Pass The Friggin' Water, _Please_?"

Craig Tucker, with his limited amount of attention to the external world, seemed to hear my plea and flicked the metal tin tiredly so it would slowly come sliding my way.

'Thank you.' I said when it finally reached me. More of an annoyed statement than anything when I went to pour my cup, I noticed something next to my plate of pasta: nothing.

'Butters, where's your lunch?'

The blond, who was staring at the stained wooden table with hollow eyes, lifted his tired gaze up to me. 'Huh?'

'Dude, your lunch.' I repeated. 'Didn't your parents give you lunch today?' _"Again?"_ is what I wanted to say.

The poor dude bit on his bottom lip and his eyes shook for a brief second in their sockets, debating whether or not to tell me.

'Yeah.' He finally said, looking back down onto the stain on the table. 'They said I needed ta, ta, lose more weight, ya see?'

'Lose weight? Dude, you're not that fat. Unlike Eric.'

'Ay, asshole!' The fatso leaned forward from the other side of Butters to send me a quick glare before his eyes turned to Butters, a thin smile pulling his lips up. 'Your parents are fucking douchebags dude. You want some of this?' He said, indicating his own plate of pasta.

The offer nearly made the blond jerk in horror. 'No! Ah, thanks Eric.' He mumbled quietly. 'And I wouldn't say that my parents are douchebags...' He quickly sank back into his chair. The horror of taking food from the Eric Cartman would be a fear to us all. Except for me, maybe.

'Whatever you say dude, off-food isn't a healthy diet. Here, have this.' I shoved my half-eaten plate in front of him, although it might have been a little hypocritical. But the cafeteria lady had given me extra that day, and even in the roaring of the cafeteria, I thought I could hear Butters' stomach rumbling.

'You shouldn't be the one giving him food dude.'

'Yeah, Kyle. You need those calories more than any of us.'

I glared at the two guys sitting opposite me, with their trained muscles and developed height.

'Don't think of me on the same level as you football players.' I warned them and gulped some more water down.

'Ah, goddamn it.' One of those players cursed staring down at his phone.

'What Stan?'

'Urgh, just some shit.' He grumbled hiding his phone away and jumping onto his feet. 'Hey, does anybody wanna help me take the student journals to the teacher's office?'

'As if brah,' Eric mumbled through his mouthful of pasta, the sauce and little bits of penne slapping around in his mouth with each chew. Ew.

A second passed and nobody else bothered to even reply. 'Ah, fuck you guys.' Stan waved his hand dismissively and turned to head out the cafeteria.

Somehow, like I did, I couldn't stop staring at his back as he walked away. My legs moved on their own account and in a second, I was right beside him.

'Thanks Kyle,' he smiled when he noticed my presence. 'At least _someone_ has the decency to help around here.'

I shrugged. 'Well, it's better than being around those assholes.'

'Ha! True?'

His clear laugh seemed to echo in my eardrums, over and over again. I loved his laugh. Possibly more than anything. And I couldn't help but love the occasional moments like this when it was just me and him.

We were once called inseparable, attached by the hip. But even such a friendship began to wane over time. We were just so different. But all friendships do fade, I think. It seems like so, especially when it comes to me.

Friendship is like a revolving door. No matter how important they are at one point of time, you can't stop them from going out of that spiral of your life. Well, it's not really impossible, but it's fucking hard as hell. It would be nice to find someone to get stuck in that endless spinning though, I think.

'Is it just these?" I asked him, picking up a notebook from a large pile stacked on a desk in an empty senior classroom.

'Yeah, just those- but you don't have to carry them dude.'

'Might as well.' I picked up a whole stack, wrapping my arms around them securely. 'That's what I came for, wasn't it?'

'Thanks, but-' He slid the notebooks out of my arms, 'I think I'll carry them. Don't want Wendy seeing.'

_Wendy…_

Watching him struggle on the doorknob with two full hands, I smirked, and turned it open for him. He thanked quickly before continuing.

'If Wendy finds me making you carry this stuff she would be all: "Oh, why would you make him carry that Stan? I'm sure you could've carried that all yourself Stan, why force him do it? You're such a bully Stan, making a friend your personal slave."' He whined with a high-pitched annoying voice coming form the bottom of his nose. 'Nag nag nag nag nag, until she finally ends up making me apologise my heart out to you.'

I forced out a choked chuckle and dropped my eyes to my feet moving step by step forward. The soles of our shoes squeaked against the floor with every step we took.

The second I helped Stan open the door to the teacher's office we were welcomed in by a high-pitched voice, quite different from Stan's impersonation.

'There you are Stan!' The voice shook my brain and sent a heavy rock sink into my stomach. I watched as the stack of books was easily lifted away from Stan and into the arms of the ebon-haired girl. 'Thank you honey.' She said and pecked him on the cheek. I stitched a blank smile onto the corners of my lips.

'Oh, hi Kyle!' She beamed when she turned around to find me standing next to her boyfriend.

'Hey Wendy.'

Wendy Testaburger had silky ebon hair that matched perfectly with Stan's, contrasting magnificently with my nest of bright red curls. Another thing that contrasted from me, were her eyes. Her chocolate-like eyes that sat in the middle of her face would melt along with the warmness of her smile, making it impossible for anyone to keep a frown in front of her. Brown, warm and calming, so different from my vibrant, almost ice-like green irises.

But sometimes those beautiful brown beads of hers would turn into splinters and dig right through you.

Not many people knew that.

I certainly didn't know that.

'I hope Stan didn't forcefully drag you along here, nagging and complaining the whole way.' She continued to talk as she placed the mountain of notebooks on some teacher's desk.

Wendy was one of the nicest people you could ever know. Friendly, caring, popular, but not up herself, and then of course what gave her the extra points: her high academic skills. One thing that kicked the shins of my self-esteem though, if I had any, was the fact that her and I were almost eye-level. No it wasn't me, as I said, I'm not that short. Wendy was just one fucking tall girl (not a giant though), which magically didn't stand out when she stood beside her also-tall, boyfriend. It is just too understandable that she would later become the ace attacker of the girl's lacrosse team.

Too understandable…

I opened my mouth to answer her question, but before any words could come out, a firm arm wrapped around my shoulder and pulled me into the warm wall of muscle.

'No, he wanted to come. Didn't you Kyle?' Stan answered instead of me, looking down into my face with his sparkling blue eyes. It made my tongue stumble for words for a second.

'Ah, eh, yeah, yeah sure.'

He smiled and slid his arm off my shoulder to take a step towards his girlfriend.

'I'll see you later then, babe.'

'Yeah, see you.'

Suddenly forming their own intimate world even if only for an instant, they leaned in towards each other and pressed their lips together lightly. The atmosphere dissolved no more than a second after they parted, but the scene stayed behind my eyelids for a while longer.

When it came to those two, whether it was because of their long history of nearly eight years I don't know, but even words like 'babe' and 'honey' didn't seem like shallow names that hopped off their tongues. They represented what they had built together.

The heavy rock inside my stomach began to sink just a bit deeper.

'Come on Kyle, let's go.'

My feet tangled up slightly as Stan began to pull me out of the office by resting his arm on my shoulder again. I could feel his heat sink into my shoulder blade, making the skin burn underneath my baggy cardigan.

I said I would promise I would tell you later. This might be the right time.

When Stan touched me, my skin glowed from warmth and it would quickly rush to my cheeks. Being alone with him was one of my favourite moments. Seeing him with his girlfriend made a rock drop into the pit of my stomach. I averted my eyes with every time they kissed.

It's pretty obvious, but I can spell it out for you if you want.

I had a crush on my best friend.

No one else knew this, except for that one person. But he was long since gone.

.

Occasionally on Mondays and Thursdays, I would stay back in the library and study. It was still fairly early into our first year so most people thought me strange to be even studying, as opposed to joining clubs or doing sport. But most people just went home to go on endless hours of Facebook or gaming or whatever they did at home. But because I stayed at school and studied, I was a little weird. But the library was a great place with stacks of resources to study with.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Stan finished training earlier those days, I swear. It was just a coincidence that we sometimes ended up going home together.

Around five or half-past or so, most days, I would get a quick message from him saying, _'Finished training. You wanna go home together?_' or somewhere along that line, without the spelling or grammar of course.

Somewhere deep down, every time I would wonder whether he would prefer it if I just said no so that he could go home with his teammates. But he had the rest of the week to do that, so my answer was always the same.

'_Sure.'_

He would be on the steps of the school main entrance, waiting for me as I secretly jogged my way to him.

'You ready?'

'I was the one waiting dude.'

I laughed, and lightly punched him in the shoulder.

All the busses were out by then, so it was a decent walk back home. But it was nice, especially during autumn when the sunset perfectly harmonised with the brown and red leaves fallen on the asphalt.

The only bad thing is that it makes you remember a lot of old memories.

'Wow, hey-' Stan said, with a voice faded under his breath of amazement. 'Check it out.'

I did. A little tilt of the head to the right, then I was flying, or falling, either way I couldn't stop my heart from soaring through the endless red sky. I could feel the scene reflect on my eyes and burn. It was magnificent.

Stark's pond was dyed in the colour of the sunset. The water, a mirror for the sky glowing in all the possible reds, oranges, pinks and purples ever imagined possible. There was sky above, and sky below, and I was in the middle of it. There, along with Stan. It felt as though there was my own little sun in my head, shining and glowing wonderful light out of my shallow eyes.

I believed that that would become one of the most beautiful scenes, one of the most fabulous memories of my whole high-school life. One that I would look back in a couple of decades, sigh, and chuckle at how wonderful my youth was. I really believed that at the time.

We made our way to the bank of the lake, our reflection appearing on the red sky below. My eyes met Stan's on the surface of the water, the unexpected contact startled me and sent me a couple of steps back. My animated legs made him cackle delightfully.

'What was that!' He asked through his laughter.

_Your gaze._

'Cramp-' was my choked answer. 'Quick cramp in my toe- nasty bastard.'

His cackling knocked up a level; clear bright laughs filled the air as he held his forehead with one hand and his stomach with the other.

My face began to burn, bright as the sunset, watching his laughs finally begin to quieten as he dropped himself on the ground. A few more laughs, a quick breath and a sigh, then he was done.

I sat next to him on the bank of the lake, measuring the right friendly distance before making myself comfortable.

It was quiet now. The sunset silently burned the white mountains, drowning us into its fantastic landscape.

'It never changes, does it?' I began, not aware of my own cheesy words. 'It feels like I've been seeing this sunset every single day of my life, and it never changes. It never gets old.'

But it does change. I know that now.

Stan blinked blankly at my words, and then released his body into a more comfortable stance, staring up at the sky, finding something in the changing colours.

'Do you remember that time we were playing heroes with a few other kids?' He began. 'We went in and stole all the cats from poor Mrs. Deiner saying that we "had to save all the cats from the crazy old witch!"'

The sudden topic threw me off guard, but the enthusiasm he put into his narration made me shoot a laugh into the air.

Yeah. I remembered that one clearly. The half a dozen meowing cats shared among the six of us, as we carefully took step-by-step towards the front door on her creaky floorboards.

'And remember how it was only so that Kenny could get high off their piss?' He chuckled.

'I remember finding his nearly dead body on the floor of his basement with six cats pouncing around him.'

'Oh yeah, he was high for three days!' Stan burst out laughing, high shocks of laughter zapping my ears. But I couldn't find the amusement in the memory.

'We should've known not to trust him for taking care of the cats.' I mumbled.

'Yeah, but as if we could have ignored the leader's suggestion! He was the greatest superhero of us all!' He was still joking, so I smirked. More amused with his smile, his laughter and his words, and the bit of irony I found in them.

Kenny was not a superhero.

'Oh, _God_-' Stan finally began to leave the fantasy world of the past and return to reality as his laughter turned into a sigh. 'Whatever happened to that guy?' He sent a soft chuckle into the high sky, tasting the bitter-sweetness of nostalgia in the autumn air.

I looked at him, looked at myself, then looked down.

'I couldn't care less about that bastard…'

The bitterness was filling my mouth, making the surface of my tongue dry and rasp. But I couldn't taste any sweetness anywhere in the air.

What Stan remembered of him was laughter, foul jokes, and the stupid games we did together.

What I remembered of Kenny McCormick was white snow, a confession, and a departure without a goodbye a couple days later.

.

Now, as you might have noticed, I had become used to my own feelings towards my friend Stan. I had even come to enjoy it on some occasions; it was inevitable. Being friends meant friendly skin contact and times alone. Although most of the time I had come to not think of it, the rest of the time was just painful unrequited and disturbing feelings.

But at the beginning, it was just horrible. When I first noticed my own feelings towards my best friend. It felt as though inch-by-inch my insides were rotting from my stomach to my chest, to my throat, and then reach to my eyes and leak out as tears.

I was a big boy that wasn't supposed to cry, but I was also a small boy that wasn't ready to find out his sexual orientation. Confusion, guilt and fear overcame me like a wave of a tsunami, eating me up as if I was a small island. I stayed in bed for nearly a whole school week, turning my best friend away every time he came to visit, saying that I was too sick and didn't want him to catch what I had.

There was one person though, that ignored my warning and barged in at the end of the week. Well, not really barged in, more gently and carefully, but ignored my plea nonetheless.

'Kyle, you can't stay in here for ever.' He said, matter-of-factly. I dug my head deep into my pillow and faked a horrible cough.

There. See how sick I am?

There was a sigh above me, quiet, but what seemed to dig deep into my ears much more than my exaggerated cough.

'Kyle, I care about you dude, but I know I can't drag you out of there.' His voice quietened, almost into a whisper, as if it was not even said to me. 'But I need to talk to you,'

It was turning into a desperate plead, making me tilt my head to the side so that I could hear his voice clearly. But I couldn't understand it. What was that in his voice?

'Kyle please. For me?'

The words bruised me and sank into my heart. It made me leave the bed sheets I had been calling my home and protection for the past week. I was on my two feet, staring into his ice-blue eyes.

He led me out of the room, I followed him out of the house, and we walked together to the frozen water of Stark's Pond. There was no snow in the sky, all fallen to the ground as a rich coat of pure white. The sky was an endless desert of deep blue, and combined with the snow made the perfect colour of the blond boy's eyes.

'What did you want to tell me?' I asked him as we placed ourselves under the white fir tree.

He looked at me, with his transparent eyes that seemed to go on forever. I waited for him patiently, accepting his eyes into my own, but the only response I gained from the stare was a deep sigh.

'Tell me about you first.' He said.

'What about me?'

'What kept you under your sheets for a whole week?'

Our eyes met again, and this time there was smile on his lips, accepting and reassuring, something that felt as though he was reaching out to me. It was so caring, I couldn't face it. I dug my face into my knees, a replacement for my sheets.

'I don't want to tell you.'

'Why not?'

'Because. You'll hate me.' My breath shook. 'Everyone'll hate me.'

There was no answer, even after I waited for a while. Reluctantly, as my eyes were beginning to blur, I looked up, to find that the soft smile on his lips had turned into one firm line, and his eyes strengthened into truth and determination.

'Kyle, I would never, ever, hate you.'

It wasn't a word of comfort, or something he would use to make me spill my mind. It was a vow.

It made me believe that I could trust him, with everything I had.

'Kenny,' I began. My eyes couldn't leave his; my heart was pounding aggressively in my heart, but my pulse was nice and calming. 'I think I'm gay.'

A thin tear escaped my eye and streamed down my cheek, and I dug my face back into my knees, suddenly feeling the familiar shame from the words that had slid out of my mouth.

But I could feel a hand of comfort slowly making it's way to my shoulder. I waited for the warmth, and its reassurance made me continue.

'I think I'm gay for Stan…'

They ended up being my last words to him.

His comforting hand never reached my shoulder. The warmth never came.

I wonder if everything would have been different if I hadn't have said those words. Maybe he would have still been here and best friends would have remained as best friends.

But no.

A couple of days later, without a word to anyone, Kenny and his family left their home on the other side of the train tracks. They didn't leave any goodbyes or even a note to say where they were going. What they did leave, were the remains of their slum of a home, stupid old memories, and a feeling of betrayal deep inside my chest.

I wonder if that was the beginning of everything.

How I would end up hating my high school days, hating everyone, hating myself.

How I would end up waiting for the train with gentle snow cooling my scars four years later.

How I would end up here.

* * *

**A.N- Thanks for reading. Sorry nothing happened. It was more of an intro wasn't it? **

**Please tell me if you liked it, disliked it, felt nothing or want an update-**


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two: Blue Bruise_

From some time during my high school life I noticed the colours of Butters's eyes begin to change. Change from his normal shyness, to fear, to exhaustion, to unforgiveable relief and guilt to match.

I wonder how my eyes began to change?

.

I could hear the school bell ring in the distance and I began to stump my feet on the floor of the bus nervously.

'Dude, running in the bus isn't going to make us go any faster.' Eric said irritably, chewing onto the straw of his milk carton.

'I can't believe we're late _again_-' I completely ignored his words and jittered my eyes off into the distance out the window. The school, I could see it. So close yet so far.

'Kyle. It really_, does not matter._ We have homeroom first anyway, I mean, how could you actually care about being on time to _homeroom_?'

'I prefer having my record clean, thanks.'

The second I said that the bus came to a halt and I jumped up to my feet, ready to be one of the first people off the damn thing.

'Come on fatass, Butters-' I nudged the blonde sitting in front of us on the way out, urging them to hurry.

But again, as always, by the time I had jogged up to our classroom door I had seemed to have lost the two on my way.

'Goddamn it.' I muttered, giving the empty corridor behind me one last glance before sliding into the room. But it had become somewhat of a routine, Eric and Butters being late in the mornings, so I didn't worry so much.

They finally came in, about ten, fifteen minutes into the class.

'Where the hell were you guys?' I hissed at the fatty taking his seat next to me.

Eric smiled sadly, and leaned into my ear.

'Butters's parents unleashed their rage again.' He whispered softly, nodding at the boy who was taking a seat at the back of the room. 'They gave him a nice bruise on the cheekbone, the maniacs.'

His voice was bitter as he glared in the direction of the boy. I followed his eyes, and sure enough, there was a pink patch swelling on his cheek. God. I didn't even notice that when I got on the bus earlier that morning.

'I tried to drag him to the nurse, but he wouldn't let me. So I gave him some painkillers instead.'

'Oh,' I said, lifting up my brow. 'That was nice of you.' I was impressed, even if it meant that it gave Eric an ugly smug of a smile.

I looked back once more and watched Butters staring down at his desk with empty eyes and shoulders shaking silently. Eric's painkillers didn't seem to be doing much good, I thought sadly.

.

'Thanks,' I mumbled as the cafeteria lady dropped a messy lump of mashed-potato in the middle of my plate. The liquid-like potato spluttered all over my tray, making me cringe. Would it be possible for them to serve a clean, organised plate for once?

With the clock barely hitting twelve o'clock, the cafeteria was almost empty. Filled with only a hand-full of students who didn't have class and opted for an early lunch. I stretched my neck in search to find someone, a friend to sit with, and sure enough, my eyes landed on the leaf-like strands of blond hair.

'Hey Butters.' I saw him jolt subtly in the corner of my eye when I dropped my tray onto the table.

'Hi Kyle,' He swallowed nervously.

I looked at him, more specifically, at the swollen spot on his cheek beginning to turn purple.

'Eric told me about that bruise.' I murmured, 'Dude, shouldn't you tell someone about your parents?'

His body froze for a second, then he slowly lowered his sandwich onto the paper bag being used as a plate. His movements were careful, and fragile. Well, at least they packed lunch for him today...

'I don't think so Kyle, it's-' He touched his bruise. 'It's not that bad even. Honest.'

Ignoring his 'I'm okay' crap, I reached out to feel the skin around the painful purple. Inside my veins, my blood was slightly simmering. How could parents do such a thing to their own child? And how could Butters do nothing about it?

'Did you at least cool it dude?' I narrowed my eyes at the bruise dyeing the skin on the end of his cheekbone, just under his right temple.

'No…' He muttered an answer, taking another bite of his sandwich. I slumped my shoulders and sighed. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. It was tiring.

'You enjoying your lunch there, Butters?'

We both looked up to find Eric hunching over our table, casting his shadow over our meals. Butters paused, then slowly gulped down half of the food in his mouth.

'Hope you weren't talking behind people's backs like the bitches that you are.' Eric said, not waiting for a reply from Butters and dropping himself into the seat next to me, his tray with extra spluttered potato crashing onto the table.

'Yeah.' I rolled my eyes sarcastically. 'We were just talking about how fat, ugly and stupid you are. Weren't we Butters?'

'No- We wouldn't do that Eric...' Butters shrunk into himself, eyes finding a small stain on the table.

The fatass grunted, and began digging into his mountain of food.

Within five minutes, our lunch table was half full, and was overloaded with chattering and cackles that were enough to fill the whole cafeteria. It was enough to take my mind off the boy with the bruise sitting in front of me, and make me join in with the laughter. Not knowing that the small black mark on his right cheekbone was my small chance. That it was a clue just right there. And I completely missed it.

_._

A few days later, back from the weekend, one of the first things that I noticed was that the small swell on Butters's cheekbone had mellowed and that the purple bruise had settled down into a creamy yellow.

'Hey Butters. Your bruise seems to be getting better.' I dropped myself next to him on the morning steps of South Park High. On the other side of him, was Eric. He said Hi or something, but what caught my attention wasn't his greeting, but a brand new mark on Butters's face. 'What is that?'

'Huh?' He said with anxious eyes, tightening the collar of his shirt nervously, another one of his habits.

'That.' I repeated myself, lifting the leafy blond hair out of his forehead. Some skin had been scraped off and turned white above his right brow, while the small scar had turned fresh red under the dead skin.

'Oh- nothing.' He said, averting his eyes.

'It looks like someone dug their nail into you. Who did this? Was it-' There could only be one answer. And how easy did that answer seem to me then. Butters simply chuckled troublingly and shrugged his shoulders. That was enough for me.

'Does it sting?' I asked, resting my hand on his cheek as my thumb gently caressed the untouched skin around his mark.

His cheeks began to warm up into a sweet pink as my thumb continued its motion. I couldn't help but smile at the cuteness of the red dyeing the grown boy's face, it told me that he was feeling better now. Just to break a bit more of the tension, I leaned into his blushing face with a seducing smile acting out on my lips.

'Should I kiss it better?' He almost started fuming after I said that and I chuckled with playful laughter. 'Dude, I'm joking! No need to get scared.' I ruffled his hair, which made him let out a small sigh of relief.

I completely ignored Eric's existence until it was time to get up and head for class. Well, I didn't ignore really. I had forgotten. But it would have been the same thing for him. His eyes narrowed into a smile of satisfaction when I finally turned to face him, talk to him.

He ached for the attention.

.

A finger slid onto the back of my neck, crawling like a slimy worm down the bone right through to the tip of my shoulder, making me shudder at the discomforting imagery.

'Kyle, could you help me with something?' A breathless voice said, a sweetness that would rot your teeth added to the words.

'Ah- with what Bebe?' I asked, a little uncomfortable with the voice.

'Um-' God. She didn't know what help she wanted yet… 'Politics?' She ended up with. I sighed.

'I don't take politics, Bebe.'

I mumbled a sorry and shut my locker as quickly as I could, desperate to runaway from the _extremely_ friendly fingers of Bebe Stevens. When I turned to make my leave, I met two blue lustful irises framed with vibrant blond hair digging hot sparks into my eyes.

'Excuse me.' I pushed right through her, easily enough against the yet-to-be key defender of the girl's lacrosse team.

Even as I walked away, I could feel her eyes on my back. A little lower than my back. It made my legs work faster than they would naturally. Ever since we were in elementary together, the girl had a thing for butts. More specifically, my butt. It didn't really disappear over the years.

It was times like these when I wanted to burst out my sexuality to the world. But no. No distractions needed for little academic me. Well, as long as I could avoid it for.

I scanned my eyes around irritably, looking for a set of straight brown hair of the large figure that said he was coming over to my place that afternoon.

'Hey, have you seen Eric?' I asked Clyde Donovan, one of the slightly bigger football players on Eric's team. Together, they would make a good defence line- you could tell.

'No.' He answered with a subtle shadow coating his drooping hazel eyes. The shadow of jealousy towards Bebe's weird attraction towards me. It was pathetic. I wanted to yell at him, "have her, she's all yours! Please!"

'Thanks,' is what I said instead as I rushed past him in search for my brunette friend, the other defender. I always thought he would do better in offense though.

Lacrosse for girls and football for boys were the main sports of South Park High- our pride and glory. Not really. But competing well in them- hell, even associating with the main players in them, were the quickest tickets to boost up your popularity. I had little to do with either. I had a crush on my friend, the future captain, and was best friends with the training defender. The only time I cared about sports was when I thanked my stamina and swift legs working through the corridor while looking for my friend.

Although a small school, my school had four floors and seven bathrooms. Two on each floor on the east and west side of the building, (except for the forth floor, that only had one on the east). Somehow, the bathrooms on the west side were never used, except for the occasional cigarette sessions. But the forth floor, that was a little different. Not even the Goth kids went up there to smoke.

So you could imagine my surprise when I was walking through the silent forth floor corridor and almost crashed into a panicked Butters stumbling out of the bathroom.

'Sorry, sorry-' He rushed, hands up in apology, yet eyes cast firmly to the ground under the curtain of his blond hair.

'No it's fine- are you alright?'

I tried to look up into his face hiding under his bangs. His rapid breath overpowering his repeating apologies, lips wet with saliva. Then I saw his eyes, wide and frozen, light blue almost turned into white from shock. When his eyes noticed mine, the blue instantly returned, and he jumped away from my searching face like an electrified cat.

'Oh jeez Kyle! I'm fine- yes I'm fine-'

He said that as his shaking hand went to grip the collar of his shirt around his neck, fingers desperately digging into the fabric closing firmly around his throat. If he hadn't have done that I wouldn't have noticed. The red marks glowing on the soft skin of his neck.

'What the fuck is that?' I asked, my own question echoing in my head, confusion turning my eyes into stone. My finger was pointing at the mark around Butters's neck, not completely hidden under his immense gripping of his collar.

Those red marks. I knew exactly what they were. They were finger marks burning his skin. The evidence that hands had been choking his throat.

'What the _fuck_ is that?' I asked again, my voice beginning to shake, from confusion, from instinctive anger, and from horror. But mine didn't match the horror of Butters when I asked him that question.

'This- are… these are… uh-' His eyes were jittering all over the place, from right, to left and up and down- until they landed on the bathroom door. I followed his gaze.

With a blank mind, I slowly walked passed him, and pushed the cold surface of the bathroom door open. The creaking was too loud, but it didn't overpower the sound of soft humming and water streaming calmly out of a tap.

'_Some others I've seen… might never be mean…'_

I don't know if my heart stopped, or began, when I saw Eric Cartman singing as he turned the tap off and flicked his fingers free of water. All I know is that my body disconnected from my mind for a second.

Smoky eyes met mine, and a thin smile spread across his lips.

'_It had to be you… Wonderful you…'_

My body was frozen still in his grin as I watched him take his steps towards me.

'You look like you've just seen your dead grandma dude, what's up?'

His casual voice turned a switch on in my head, consciousness returned back to my body.

'Butters- his neck-' I gulped down, words weakening on my tongue. 'There were marks on Butters's neck…'

'Oh…' Eric's grey-hazel eyes sank to the floor with sorrow. 'So you saw them too huh?'

'What do you mean- do you know about them? Where the fuck did he get those from?' My shocked voice echoed off the white tiles of the bathroom walls as I watched Eric looking at me with unsure eyes.

'I pulled Butters into here to ask him what had happened. His parents dude. They're sick.'

'His dad did that to him?' The marks around his neck were big, not that of a woman's.

Eric nodded. The action squeezed all the breath out of me, my eyes began to burn. How could such a thing happen? Parents choking their own son until marks stained his skin?

'That's disgusting.' I felt sick.

'It's pretty bad huh?'

With a ponderous gait, we walked out of the cold bathroom to find that Butters had already left.

'Poor dude…' I whispered into the empty corridor. But that was all. That was the end of it. A small sympathetic word and our lives went back to normal.

'So, am I still going to your house tonight?' Eric asked as we pushed through the school entrance.

'Yeah.'

'Sweet.'

A walk home with Eric was very different from a walk home with Stan. Mostly because I didn't have butterflies flying in my stomach. None. Whatsoever. And that's what made it so relaxing and natural, in a way. I didn't have to keep anything in around Eric.

'Hey, we should stop at Tweak's on the way. Get a cake or something.' Eric said as we passed our local coffee shop. Tweak's made good coffee, but everything was expensive. Even while we were friends with the owner's spastic son, we were never offered a discount.

'Can't you wait 'till we get home you fatty?'

'Fuck off. What, don't you have any money?'

'No money to waste.'

'Fucking Jew.' He muttered.

'Hey, fuck you fatso. You can just go straight home and forget about me helping you do your homework you know.'

I bet he twitched his eye in discontent then.

'I'm sorry Kyle. I won't say it again.' He said sarcastically, as if a child was apologising to his mother.

'That's better.'

I had the power! I chuckled as he pouted at me with his full cheeks, but soon those flesh dropped into his small smirk. We were laughing together. Like always. Best buds.

'I'm home!' I called out as I shut the front door behind Eric. 'Eric's here too!' I added as I turned into the kitchen to meet my mum baking while Eric hung up our jackets in the doorway.

'Hi bubbe. And is your little friend joining dinner with us tonight?'

I smirked. Little?

'Eric, are you staying for dinner?' I quickly jogged back to him.

'I don't need your charity,' was his response.

I twitched a smile and called out his answer to my mum. 'Ma! Eric says that he doesn't need dinner or your freshly baked cookies!'

'Ay!' Eric gasped. 'He's just joking Mrs. Broflovski! I'll love some of your cookies!'

I laughed under my breath as he glared back at me.

'Fatty.' I snickered.

'Jew.'

Ignoring his comment, I led the way up the stairs and into my room where we would be enjoying our fun session of homework and study.

'Fuck this.' Eric dropped his head onto the table in resignation to the mighty power of the English language. He twirled his pen in his left hand to accompany his words.

'Eric, it's only been fifteen minutes.'

'Yeah. And remind me, why am I doing this?'

'Because you have to.'

It was hard to explain to someone the importance of homework and studying. I bet it's an instinctive thing, a general knowledge that you are born with. He glared at my unsatisfying answer and I raised my eyebrows at him.

'You finished all the cookies my mum gave us. You should have plenty of sugar in your system to work with. Dude, seriously. Orwell isn't that hard.'

'It is when his book's fucking boring.' His mumble was sucked into the book. The pathetic sight made me sigh.

'Eric, you haven't even read the whole book. You have to read each book three times, I still can't believe that you haven't finished it once. Besides-' I picked up the all-too familiar "Nineteen-Eighty Four" and flipped through the pages. 'The book is based on the totalitarian regime of Communist Russia. It incorporates history. How could it be boring?'

Tiredly, Eric lifted his forehead up to eye me disbelievingly, before letting it fall straight back onto the table.

'Fine! If that's how you're gonna be like. I give up.' I picked up our next book for assessment and spread myself on my bed, making myself comfortable while Eric was abandoned on the floor with the small desk. No sympathy for the moaning.

I felt his eyes on me, the gaze moving up and down as I silently flipped the page over. But I ignored him. If he wanted my help he had to ask for it, and he had to appreciate it, that is what I thought. And I also thought that he would give in and even beg me for it.

I wasn't expecting, however, that large thick fingers would wrap around the trunk of my thigh. My foot jerked up aggressively in response when they did.

'AH! Eric! What the hell?' I called out to the fatso eyeing me amusingly with perked lips.

'You're reactions are hilarious.' He said, squeezing my thigh again.

'Stop! Stop it!' I yelled out laughing, my feet kicking through the air uncontrollably. His right hand joined in, sausage-like fingers worming their way up my thighs, hips, waist and ribs like the scattering legs of a spider. Every poke in the skin made me yelp and laugh out like madness, tears began forming in the corners of my eyes.

'You're even skinnier than I thought you were, Jew.' He said, hands still working their torturing tickles.

'And you're fingers are thicker than I thought they were!' I managed to squeeze out through my blocked throat before yelping again as the fingers began to dig even deeper for that comment.

'Surrender and I'll stop.' He said, kneeling atop my wriggling frame.

'Surrender to what!' I shouted.

'To me.' His voice was soft and calm, deep in his throat, but his fingers were only getting more aggressive.

'No fucking way, dude, Ah-!' I jumped against his knee as his fingers tore into an excruciating spot in between my ribs.

'Kah-hl…' He whispered into my ear, and that was it.

'Okay! Okay! I lose! STOP!'

And just with that, it ended. The horrible tickling session was over. Finally. I heard him chuckle on top of me victoriously as I lied underneath him panting with tears in my eyes.

'That was so-' I gulped through breaths, 'Unfair-'

'Well, I have the power. And that is all that matters.' He sneered, sliding off of me. Power: the only sweet icing for Eric's delicious life. Oh, and how true it was. And I didn't even know the half of it.

'Well I don't care. It was still cheating.' I lifted myself up so that I was sitting on the bed next to him.

'I could do it again, you know?'

'No you couldn't.'

He only shrugged at that response, and stared into the blank wall opposite to us with an emotionless smile. His eyes were far ahead, looking at something past the double coating of paint and the thick installation.

Bored, my eyes slowly wandered to a small photo frame leaning against the wall on my desk. Four people, different colour heads laughing and posing in the photo. I ignored my own image and looked straight at the black haired one, my eyes naturally falling into a warm smile as I looked at his smiling face rubbing against my own. My heart flattered as I looked at Stan, and ached for the days that we were so close. Finally, I looked at the others, brunet-Eric showing his teeth in a biting smile, and then to the blond. My lips relaxed out of its smile and I felt my eyebrows fall. My mind was blank as I watched Kenny smile under his hood, frozen there next to us in the photo, gone somewhere far away from us in reality.

'Hey Kyle?' Eric suddenly said, snapping the blank string in my head and bringing me back to reality.

'Yeah, what?' My words were clumsy, just like waking up from a deep sleep.

I met his eyes as he tilted his head to look deeply into me. A small smile spread across his lips innocently.

'Can I borrow some money?' He asked.

I eyed him in confusion, mind finally beginning to function. 'Why? How much?'

'Oh, just five bucks or so. I'll pay back to you. I promise.'

As he answered, I reached out to my school bag and took the pleaded amount out.

'You promised.' I assured, handing him the notes. 'Tomorrow.'

He smiled, the delight reaching his eyes and narrowing them warmly.

'Thanks.'

His hand reached out for the money in my hand.

I wish I could yell out to myself of that time, as he most purely and ignorantly slid the delicate notes through his weak, powerless fingers, presenting them to the approaching figure.

Don't give him the money Kyle. Don't give it to him! That would become the beginning of everything.

When Eric took the money, a deep hole appeared under my feet and I began to fall. Slowly, I began to fall into the endless, dark pit. And I didn't even notice it.

.

Three things that I should have noticed by then:

One. Most of the bruises Butters got were on the right side of this face. Both his parents were right handed.

Two. Eric Cartman was a manipulative genius at covering things up and having things go his own way.

Three. The glint of pleasure in Eric's eye as he watched me squirm underneath him.

.

I wasn't expecting Eric to bring the money the next day. Eric Cartman keeping a promise? Please. I'd rather expect snow in July.

The bus was on time for once. In fact, it was a few minutes early. I was sitting at the back with Eric, while Butters was sitting in front of us, as always. Butters's was as quiet as ever, and I was staring out the window, listening to Eric quietly hum with a thin smile stitched to his lips. He reached the end of the song and I sent him a glance. My eyes unexpectedly met his, eyelids frozen as my heart jolted in its spot.

Eric smiled at me then leaned forward and whispered something into Butters's ear. Butters looked at him in surprise, jittery eyes wide, but he instantly relaxed and let out a careful sigh. Eric sank back into his spot next to me with his smile still tucked in place, humming starting from the beginning of the song again.

I watched all this without blinking. I felt an uncomfortableness as I did, like an itch on my ribs, or fume entering my lungs. I felt something odd that I furrowed my eyebrows at. But I didn't do anything in response. Simply looked back out the window.

We arrived at school not a minute later.

'Hey Kyle, could you spare a minute?' Eric's voice stopped me in the middle of the school steps, making a couple kids groan as I stood in their tracks.

'The school bell is gonna go any minute dude.' I said, and he shrugged.

'Just for a minute.' He cocked his head towards the bend of the building, quiet and excluded. I gave the silent school bell one nervous look before following Eric around the corner.

'What is it?' I asked impatiently the second we entered the quiet area.

Eric gave me a troubled smile, then said with sincere words, 'Sorry Kyle, I don't have your money today.'

I blinked. Then chuckled. 'Dude, seriously? I wasn't expecting you to actually bring back the money today.' I chuckled again, pulling him on his sleeve. 'Come on. Let's go to class.' But his weight didn't budge.

'Kahl,' his voice stopped my tugging. I looked up to him, still smiling down on me. Somehow I froze.

'Kyle, could I borrow some more money?'

'What, again?' My voice returned as quickly as it disappeared. 'Why?'

'You know me and my mum ain't rich Kyle.' He said. 'I don't have any lunch money today.'

I looked at him, shocked. 'Is it that bad?' I was generally worried, but Eric chuckled.

'No, not that bad Kyle! I just forgot it today.'

I sighed in relief.

'Would five do?' I asked, pulling out a few notes from my wallet.

'That'll be fine. Thanks.' He took it, easily from my hand. The small notes crushed with his aggressive grip.

'You better give the money back tomorrow fatass. Seriously.' I smacked his back with a grin as we made our way to class.

Eric laughed in return.

He laughed.

.

I would give him a week, I thought. Since I didn't expect him to give me back my money the next day. But before the week was over, Eric was the one that came to me about it.

It was a Thursday afternoon, so naturally, I was at the library studying, waiting for Stan to finish training. So when Eric sent me a text message, I couldn't help but show my slight annoyance.

'_Where the fuck are you Jew? Need to talk.'_

As I rolled my eyes and bit on my lip, Stan sent me his usual text, saying that training was over and if I wanted to go home with him.

I looked back at Eric's message and sighed.

'_Sorry, not today.'_ I sent to Stan reluctantly.

'_Are you still studying?' _My heart fluttered. I wasn't really expecting an answer.

'_Yeah, something like that.'_ I didn't want to say that I had chosen Eric over him.

'_Ha ha. I should really do some studying too.'_

There was a hidden invitation there. Maybe it was my hallucination but I didn't miss it. Hell, my heart began to beat, but I didn't miss it.

'_Do you want to study together some time?'_ I typed the message with clumsy fingers, but I managed to press the send button safely.

I waited for a reply for one long minute, my heart beating in my ears loudly for some unnecessary reason. He was my friend. It was a normal suggestion, right? But after I received no reply for a minute, I sighed and wished that I hadn't sent that message.

But then my phone began vibrating in my hand with the sound of a cello playing skilfully through its speakers, I answered it.

'Kyle, really?' Stan's eager voice shook through the speaker before I could even say hello.

'Um, sure?'

'Oh, that would be great! Schoolwork has been killing me, so, ah- that would be a lifesaver!' There was joy in his voice. Joy- 'When do you think would be the best time?'

'Ah- Monday?'

'Perfect! Training ends early on Mondays,' as if I didn't know that already, 'Your house or mine?'

'…Your house?' I hadn't been to Stan's house in ages. The mere idea of going back there made my mind dance.

'Awesome! Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Yeah.' I said with an invisible smile dominating my lips. 'See ya.'

I stared at my phone for a second after he hung up, wondering how I ended up with that promise in the first place. Oh yeah. Eric. I answered his text message with a wide grin on my face.

'_I'm at the fucking school library fatass. What do you want?'_

'_Stay there.'_

The short reply came within a second.

And Eric came to the library within a few minutes.

'What's up?' I asked, picking up my packed bag. There was still a grin tight on my mouth. I could see by the way he frowned at me.

We walked through the silent corridors and Eric finally opened his mouth.

'Kyle, I know I owe you ten bucks-'

'Do you have it?' I interrupted him in shock.

'No-' He said. That was more expected. 'Actually, I came because I needed to borrow a little more.'

That was unexpected. 'What? Why?'

'I can't tell you why. But I can only tell you that it's really important.'

'How much?' My voice was low.

'Fifty.'

'Fifty!'

'I promise I'll pay you back! You know how Thanksgiving's around the corner?' He surrendered to my gaping face staring at him. 'Well, I can pay you back with the money I get then.'

Thanksgiving was about a month away. Yet with the amount he got every year at Thanksgiving it was imaginable, but-

'Dude I'm not lending you fifty bucks.' A pause. 'I don't even have fifty bucks.'

'Just as much as you can would be enough, Kahl. Come on, I need your help. We're best friends aren't we?' I stared at him. 'Friends help each other out, don't we?'

That was the most pathetic speech I've ever heard. That and the pleading of his eyes made me slump my shoulders and sigh.

'I'll see what I can do.'

I was walking deeper into thick mud. Thing's were going according to plan. Easy peasy.

I lent Eric Cartman forty dollars the next day as a favour, no, a duty as his good old friend.

I wouldn't get it back.

Most people would say that it was my own fault for giving it to him in the first place, that it was caused by my own gullible nature.

I would have to agree.

.

I didn't even think about the fact that I had lent Eric sixty bucks. Not until he confronted me a couple of weeks later. My mind was dancing. Dancing over Monday afternoons. Dancing about Stan.

I looked at my phone at five o'clock, just to make sure for the fiftieth time that it wasn't a dream. It was right. I relaxed a little in relief on the school steps, waiting as I watched the early sunset sit into the tip of the mountains. My breath was white.

It wasn't a minute later when a mob of football players flung open the school doors and made their grand exit- all with their matching sports bags and similar jackets. A few looked at me, scanned their eyes through me like an x-ray as they passed.

Yes, I'm a little short and twig-like compared to you bulldozers… So what, fuck you.

I shifted a little uncomfortably and adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder as I tried to focus my attention on looking for my one and only target. He came out talking with a few other first-years, noticing me when one of them nudged in his ribs.

'Hey, it's your ex-boyfriend.' Clyde Donovan said with a slight edge to his voice. He was such a douchebag.

But unlike the acid in Clyde's voice or a squint of my eye from his words, Stan's face brightened up when he noticed my existence. Too bright. His smile was too bright.

'Kyle! Thanks for waiting,' he said, hopping right up to me, ignoring his football friends walking by. Eric was in that group, watching us curiously as he went by, but saying nothing. Even as the kids cackled and chattered around him: saying nothing.

'To be honest I didn't really expect that you'd be here, I mean, you know-' Stan said to me as we made our way to his house.

I knew what he meant, and I shrugged in response. Or was I meant to finish his sentence for him? 'You know, helping someone study would be a pain in the back, especially while that person isn't your best friend anymore.' No. I don't think so.

Stan's house wasn't some alienated place to me or anything. I've been there a few times over the past couple of years, for parties and special occasions. But this was different. This was just me and him, and his mum cooking downstairs.

Stan's mum welcomed me into the house as if I was a long-lost child of hers. It had been a while since she saw me alone with Stan. Just like the old times. As if we were Super Best Friends again. And as Stan chuckled watching his mum crush me with her hug, I couldn't help but feel immense regret for what I had been missing.

'Come on Mum. Kyle needs to help me study.' And with that I was finally released.

But what had happened? I wondered as I followed him upstairs. There was no fight, only my feelings in the distant background. There were the small gap between us, he was the jock and I was the nerd. And then of course, there was Kenny, a piece of the jigsaw puzzle that broke away and made everything incomplete. But that was already a couple of years ago. Recreation was right in front of me.

I smiled and closed the door behind me as I entered Stan's room.

And what can I say? The smile stayed with me throughout the whole session, the whole four hours of it. Stan had motivation, which made him an excellent study partner, and we even played games together for a while (it had been ages since I even touched a gaming consol, but it was the same for him as well).

'Dude, it's already ten?' I gaped at the clock on my phone in disbelief. I told my mum that I'd be late but- dude.

'Do you want me to walk you home?' He hopped up worryingly as I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder.

'Dude, I'm fine. I'm not a girl.' I chuckled. Why couldn't I be honest with my desires?

But he walked me down to the front door nonetheless.

'You know, I really want to go to your house some time. It seems like ages since I saw your parents or Ike.'

'You're not missing out on much' I paused. 'But you should come over! We could do another study session some time,'

'Same time next week?' He grinned.

'Sure.'

And so our weekly study sessions began.

I didn't hide my excitement well. But how could I have? I could tell that our friendship was beginning to blossom again. And I could tell that Stan wanted it almost as much as I did.

My future was bright.

It was meant to be…

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for reading/subscribing/reviewing! And please tell me if the chapters are too long or empty or fast/slow. **

**And I will be posting a deleted scene on tumblr, if you're interested. Ciao!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three: Blue Change_

To see your whole perception of the world change instantly, it is not a nice thing.

It is like watching a jigsaw puzzle that you have made over such a long time, simply break before your eyes. Watching each fragment fall apart and drop hopelessly to the floor, shattering into a million pieces like fragile glass. Can you hear all the small pieces hit the ground like frozen rain?

Watching as reality sinks into your eyes. It is not nice.

.

Life was good.

Soon enough, the first school holidays of our high school life came and went. I hanged out with Stan a few times, once at his house, once at mine, and then a whole group of us got together and played some basketball, the one sport that I could actually ace at.

The rest of my holidays were reserved for homework, family and Eric. Eric; I began to notice something. There was a tingling in my mind or in my senses sometimes when we hung around. It came when we met eyes accidently, when he laughed or when we tackled each other playfully.

For a brief moment I almost feared that it came from some secret attraction towards him blooming inside me. But that wasn't it. There were no butterflies or unexplainable happiness when I was around him. Just a tingling: an uncomfortable itch. And there was another thing. I began to think that Cartman's everyday teasing and playful wrestling were getting a little aggressive, but not enough to point out.

The one person I worried for, was Butters. A whole holiday for his crazy parents to get at him all they wanted without school for him to runaway to. But fortunately, my worry ended up in vain. By the time school began, the bruise on Butters's cheek had completely healed and there were no new marks to be found.

'Maybe his parents got their heads screwed on properly,' I said, a smile on my face as I looked back to see Butters sitting in his usual seat at the back of the school bus. 'Or maybe he finally got some help.'

'You care about Butters don't you?' Eric said to me, a small grin tensing his chin.

'Well sure dude,' I frowned at him. 'Don't you?'

He looked back at Butters, saw the slight twinkle returning to his blue eyes, and looked back at me with a wider smile.

'I couldn't be happier.' He said, and I smiled back. 'Thing's are finally beginning to change.'

'Thing's _are_ beginning to change.' I murmured happily as I stretched.

The autumn sun shined brightly through the dirty bus windows and landed on me gently, late snow was beginning to coat the mountains. Butters was getting the soft shine in his eyes back, my friendship with Stan was only getting better.

Thing's were beginning to change.

And oh, how much they _will_ change.

Only a few minutes later, when we arrived at school did I notice that things were changing in the wrong direction.

'Hey Kyle, just-' Eric wriggled his finger, telling me to follow him. 'Kyle, just-' he did it again, so I followed him in curiosity.

It was the usual place where I lent him my money before.

'What do you want fatass, do you want some more money?' I joked. But he didn't laugh, so I gaped at him. 'Really?'

'I just need another ten bucks or so… Come on Kahl-'

'No Eric!' I laughed. This was getting ridiculous. 'I'm not lending you any more money. You already owe me sixty bucks, I think that's enough. Besides, I don't have any more-'

I turned to leave, shaking my head. But I was hauled back aggressively by a set of large fingers digging into my arm.

'Hey!' I cried, wincing in pain. But Eric ignored me, stealing my bag off my shoulder.

'What the fuck are you doing?' I exclaimed, rubbing my sore arm. Eric simply ignored me as he dug through my bag, throwing out a few books that were getting in the way of his searching. I stared at him blankly as he continued to dig, until he found what he wanted and pulled out my wallet.

'What are you doing Eric?'

This time my voice was calm, quiet, drowning in my disbelief and confusion. He opened my wallet, went through every fold, then scoffed.

'So you really don't have any.'

He dropped my wallet back into my bag and threw it at me, the bag light with all the books lying dead on the ground.

'Bring some tomorrow Kahl,' He whispered into my ear, his thick hand resting on my shoulder and gripping slightly as he did.

'Is that a threat?' I asked. I coated my words with a weak chuckle, but as I stared into his piercing eyes, I wasn't sure if it was a joke or not.

'Of course not Kahl, of course not. We're best friends aren't we?'

The hot breath seeping through his thin smile caressed my cheeks and made me shudder. He left after that with a tap on the shoulder, leaving me standing there blankly with all my belongings scattered on the cold ground along my feet.

What was that?

'What the fuck was that?' I voiced out, almost in fear.

I didn't notice that Eric was still around the corner, silently watching my pitiful form kneel to the ground and pick up my books off the gravel pathetically. My heart was beating rapidly against my ribs, my pupils dilated and my mouth dry.

Eric was gone by the time I made it around the corner.

.

As the day went, the slight confusion and fear inside me towards Eric Cartman began to simmer and then evaporate into thin air. Instead what I began to develop was annoyance, irritability and almost anger towards him.

But all my annoyance and anger, all those offensive feelings, maybe they were my own defensive behaviour.

I didn't know what was ahead of me- hell I had no idea. But I couldn't help but notice my own nervousness towards the side of Eric that I've never seen before. Well, not since we were kids at least.

I didn't bring the money the next day. Eric had gotta've been kidding me, right?

We were in our usual corner when I told him that I'm not lending him any more money, and I proved that by bringing nothing. He smiled, said that that was fine, and I almost sighed at how easily that went.

Maybe yesterday's behaviour was just a one-time thing. Maybe he was just irritated or maybe I was imagining things…

The second that thought entered my mind, a large fist came crushing down onto the bricks of the wall barely an inch away from my cheek. I felt the wind slice my skin as Eric just missed breaking my nose. My body instantly turned to stone.

'Sorry there Kahl-' Eric's friendly voice rang the air, but all I could focus on was the fragments of brink falling from his knuckle as he drew his fist back from the wall. 'I thought there was a fly.'

He smiled at me, ever so sweetly. But to me it was pure ice. I was left there completely petrified.

But that was not the only thing. There was a much more clear and inescapable threat. And it was much worse.

It had been a few of weeks into the new term. So far Butters's skin was clean of bruises and he either had lunch money or packed lunch ready for him everyday. And that morning was the same too, is what I thought.

But at lunch, after my shock from that morning had mostly worn off, Butters sat at our table without his lunch, and a new bruise was forming on the right side of his jaw. And I was positive that that was not there that morning.

'Butters what-' a wave of confusion swept through my mind, not letting me think. Butters simply sat there, eyes on the table and barely replying a mumble. It was Eric that slid from behind him and took the seat next to Butters that answered my confusion. A sharp knife in his eyes digging into me, heavy arm sliding onto Butters's trembling shoulders; that is what answered my question.

I felt nauseous. I had finally figured it out. It took me long enough.

My fork almost clattered onto my plate as I stood up and left the cafeteria. Eric followed me with a sneer, knowing instantly from my reaction what I had figured out.

I led our way to the bathroom of the forth floor, the corridor cold and hollow, only our footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. I don't know why that is where I led us, maybe it was because the shock I felt there weeks ago still felt fresh on my tongue.

Eric followed me into the room with pleasure, until I stopped dead, my feet planted on the white tiles.

'I can't believe I'm friends with you…'

The words fell naturally off my tongue, yet hardly audible from my rasp throat.

'Well that's pretty harsh isn't it Kyle?'

'You-' his words weren't reaching me, 'you hit Butters? Ah- and took his money because I didn't give you ten bucks this morning?' Eric didn't reply, just simply kept his smile

'All those times before… all those bruises on Butters's face all the time, his lunch money gone, everything- all the time you convinced people that they were done by his parents_- you _were the one that was doing that to him?'

'Oh Kyle… Do you really think that I would do that to him?'

I quietly gasped at that response. Eric smiled, but it was a troubled, sad smile. My friend, hell- my _best_ friend… Could he really do that?

'I hope not…' was all that I could manage.

The troubled smile on Eric' slips curled up, and he slid his arm onto my shoulder and twirled me back out of the bathroom.

The last time I was in that room, I was horrified and disgusted. It was by the red marks around Butters's neck, the marks of being strangled.

Could Eric really have done something so horrifying? My best friend? No- it couldn't have been…

Then why was it that I brought that money the next morning?

Well, at least there were no new bruises created on Butters that day.

Eric took the money with a smile. I kept my face firm as I looked down at the notes crunching in Eric's tight fist, being squeezed as if Eric didn't even care about the money. But I didn't take notice of that.

I wonder what I was thinking then. Would this be the end of it? Was our friendship going to go back to normal after this? Was this just a temporary thing?

I thought that money was the only thing that Eric wanted. But if I payed more attention to Eric's face, I would have noticed the satisfaction, the pleasure and the excitement in there. That would've told me that this was nowhere near the end; that he had much more planned than just money.

After he left I stood there for a few minutes gazing at the ground, trying to think. But nothing came to mind. And that empty, numb brain continued throughout my study session with Stan.

It was when night came and I dug myself deep into the covers of my warm bed that my brain finally began to function. Slowly, I began to trace back the footprints that were beginning to fade in my memory.

Butters didn't always have bruises, they were just occasional. And Butters didn't have his lunch money, but that was occasional too. He sometimes had lunch when…

_He only had lunch when it was packed. _

And then I noticed another thing.

_He mostly had bruises when he had packed lunch._

The two thoughts gave me one clear answer. Eric was extorting money from Butters. And when Butters had packed lunch instead of money he didn't have anything to give Eric. So Eric punched him to make him understand. Understand what?

That he was in control…

.

'_Why, Kyle?' A weak voice travelled to me through the darkness… _

_Why what? I tried to ask but no voice came out. But the other seemed to understand my thoughts exactly._

'_Why didn't you help me? If you thought just a little harder, you would have figured it out earlier and would have been able to stop him.'_

_From the deep darkness slowly emerged a white neck and I shrieked a soundless shriek. The deep red marks almost like burns dug deep into the thin, fragile neck._

'_But you know why, don't you Kyle? Why you didn't try.'_

_Two pale hands slowly appeared from the shadows. At first I thought they were going to reach out to me, but they stopped, showing me their palms. No, showing the-_

'_You just didn't care…'_

_Showing the countless cuts etched into the wrists, the blood pouring down the pale, bony hands, fingers, skin…_

_The pale person drew in slowly, watching me scream with satisfied eyes, with vibrant emerald eyes…_

I woke up choking on my own gasp and then a following panting. I instantly dug my hands out from under the sheets and checked the untouched skin. And then those blood-free hands shot to my neck, I felt no mark, no burn, no pain. I let out a sigh of relief and exhaustion and fell back into my mattress.

The pain…

The loneliness…

The despair…

If there was anyone out there that was feeling such emotions… the mere thought made my eyes burn. And on top of that if it was someone I knew, my own friend who was feeling such things, then how come no one noticed? How come I didn't notice while it was happening right under my nose?

I couldn't deny it anymore. It was all there.

I shivered under my sheets, then instantly, my blood began to boil in my veins. The regret and guilt instantly called in the immense anger for Eric Cartman, the cause for all that pain.

Who the fuck did he think he was? How the fuck could he do that, cause that to his own friend!

But was that dream a vision for what had happened to Butters, or was it an omen?

.

'Leave Butters alone.'

Eric frowned confusedly at me at our usual corner, which only made me glare deeper holes into him.

'If money is what you want, fine! But why the fuck do you bully him?' I was angry. My brain was finally functioning properly, and now my attitude was sprinting to catch up to reality.

'Kyle, Kyle! I don't have anything against Butters.' He said, almost like steadying a raging horse.

'Then why-'

'He was just an easy target.'

I froze, forgetting to blink.

'Well, think about it Kyle. His parents are mental cases; nobody would doubt that they might do such things to Butters. You're the poof!'

'I-' But he was right. I was completely fooled. Along with everyone else. I bit down and shook my head; I wasn't here to be convinced by Eric.

'Just- leave Butters alone…' I said, but my voice was weak. My confidence had evaporated into thin air.

'Oh Kahl. It's okay. I wouldn't worry about him anymore if I were you.'

'What does that mean?'

Such a comforting voice. Reassuring words.

He grinned down at me. And that thin, cold smile formed hands and dug deep into my chest and grabbed my heart. I felt it pumping in his grip. And that told me something; now I had turned into Eric's new doll. I was his new Butters. That is what I thought back then, because at that stage I still didn't know.

I didn't know that Butters was merely a morning workout, an easy exercise.

I didn't know that the real target was me.

.

Eric's demonstrations were subtle. Nobody noticed them. I don't think even I would've noticed them if it weren't for our little chat earlier that day, and my sensitive conscious and simmering anger I had for him.

He was cunning. And I don't want to be sexist or anything, but he was like a girl. Just in the sense that he was as psychological as he was physical and in the sense that he made sure that he never got caught.

Things like stepping on my foot 'accidently', then apologising sincerely with an amused glint in his eyes. The wilfulness of his crashes, hits and aggressive tackles in sport were only apparent to me. Tripping me over as I made my way to the black board to answer a question was only occasional. Too many times and it would not seem like an accident. He also glared at everyone for laughing at me when he did it and called them immature for laughing at someone's accident. The laughter instantly stopped, and he was admired for standing up to everyone for his "friend".

Everything he did was small at the beginning. Little specks of dust that everyone would brush off. But to me those little specks fell on top of each other until they began to form a mountain that was impossible to conquer.

'Kyle! Over here!' Stan called out from our usual table in the cafeteria. There was a bright smile on his face that instantly cleared the clouds off my shoulders.

'Thanks,' I said, making my way to the empty seat beside him. I tripped over and almost landed on the table, but Stan caught me just in time.

'Dude, watch out!' He said chuckling as my face began to burn flat-faced on his chest. 'Your getting clumsy Kyle.' He laughed, letting me rock back onto my own feet.

Clumsy. And whose fault was that?

I took my seat, and to my right, was Eric, sneering at me.

'Clumsy Kahl.' He smirked, pointing his fork at me.

'Fuck off.' I told him, which only made his grin widen.

I began eating my lunch saved thanks to Stan. But just as I began to attack the peas, I felt someone pull my hair.

'Ow,' I winced. I glared at Eric and he was grinning, pulling my hair and letting go.

'It's hilarious!' He cackled. 'You pull it and it jumps straight back up into its spot!'

He was pulling the red strands then releasing them to watch them hop into the air and settle back into its spot. I was trying to eat my peas in peace, the little green balls needed my concentration. But no. Every second as I tried to plop one dot into my mouth a pinning pain of the pores of my scalp made me cringe and drop the peas back onto my plate.

'Fuck- stop pulling my hair fatass!' I tried to wrestle out of his attacking fingers, until I grabbed his wrist fiercely in frustration. It wasn't that aggressive, but aggressive enough for Eric to act as if I was a raging cat and tackle me to the floor in self-defence.

'Wow, wow tiger!' I heard some douchebag call out as I wriggled and slashed under Eric's grip.

'Don't worry everyone, Kyle's just on his period.' He looked down on me, a sneer on his thin lips, a confident fire burning in his smoky eyes.

Some people laughed, others ignored. It was just a usual comment by the usual Eric towards the usual Kyle- their own usual unique friendship. And normally, I would have growled at Eric and the laughing crowd, scoff, tidy myself up and walk away. But now it was different. Now I didn't hear the laughter. All I could focus on was Eric's hideous smile, visible to me and only me.

And one other person.

Butters sat there, neither laughing nor ignoring. Well, pretending, trying to ignore, but he did a horrible job at it. His nervous eyes jittered up and sent a quick glance towards us, only to be averted just as quickly.

That one small act made me freeze, but the acid in my stomach began to boil at the same time. I could almost feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in subconscious anger.

Butters was on the sidelines now, he was now nice and safe. I should've been happy for the fact, but somehow, as he quickly averted his eyes, I felt nothing but betrayal. And I hated myself for that.

Butters knew something, deep down I knew. Butters knew something, knew what was going to come, while I had no idea, and pretended to not know. But to be honest, I don't think even Butters knew the severity of what was going to come.

Butters simply sat there, pretended that he didn't know and continued to eat his peas. The least he could've done was to warn me, tell me… But no, I don't blame him. Who could've? Let the boy eat his peas in peace. I sure wanted to do the same. And I sure had been doing so until now

.

'Damn,' I hissed as I peeled my sock off to hop into the shower. The white skin just above my left ankle had dyed into the colour of a ripe grape. It came from a couple of days ago when Eric's hockey stick "lost control" and wacked me.

I frowned. All the strength in my face just dropped.

I turned my eyes to my left shoulder, slightly red from being grabbed too aggressively by the same person. The finger-like marks were identical on my right shoulder as well.

And then I looked down at my stripped torso. I stared at my stomach; oh, my stomach. Just looking at it made me taste the disgusting acid in my mouth again, the little bits of my own half-digested food crawling off the tip of my tongue. An inch or so above my belly button was a bruise, almost in the shape of a perfect fist.

It was the first time Eric punched me, without hesitation, almost skilfully. It couldn't have been for what I had said. Something had to have already pulled his fuse.

It was a Monday, the best day of the week. And I think my happiness was written all over my face because Eric was sending weird glances at me, hiding his displeasure with a smile.

'Kyle, can I go to yours today?' He asked casually at the end of the day. But my answer was instant, and he should've known it before even asking.

'Sorry, can't do today Eric.'

But even if I was free I wouldn't have wanted him over, not anymore. I didn't even look at him as I tipped my books into my bag. That didn't please Eric very much.

'Kahl, can you come with me, just for a minute?' I continued to pack my bag without looking at him. So he added, 'to the bathroom on the forth floor?'

That made me stop and look at him, instantly.

'Why?' My word was tight, and it made Eric sneer in delight.

'Just come.'

And I did. Reluctantly.

'What do you want Eric?' I asked him the second the door shut behind us. I was going to be with Stan in an hour or so and I didn't want Eric to get in the way of that pleasant thought.

'What are you so happy about?'

'Huh?'

It was a mutter, barely directed at me. Eric turned and smiled. 'I meant, why are you so busy on Mondays?'

For a second, I hesitated. The way Eric smiled and the way he said those words made me nervous. But I had to answer. There was no reason not to.

'I study with Stan on Mondays.' I said, as monotonously as I could. 'That's why I'm busy.'

'Is that why you're so happy Kahl?'

My heart thumped. I wasn't ready for this.

'Wh- why did you even bring me here fatass? Did you use all the pocket money that I gave you stuffing your mouth with-'

That was not a good idea, changing the subject and insulting him. Because a second later I was on the floor, holding my own stomach in the most pain I've felt in a long, long time.

'Kahl, don't make me mad.' He simply stated, coldness in his voice.

I was holding my stomach, gritting my teeth and wanting to scream.

'But come to think of it, you're right. Can you be so kind Kahl and bring twenty tomorrow?'

He tapped my head lightly with the tip of his boot.

'Thanks.'

The second he left, I vomited all over the white tiles. I shook onto my feet painfully, and puked some more. The taste and the burning in my throat were all horrible. But it didn't come close to the pain.

For the next hour, holding my stomach in one hand and a mop in the other, I cleaned my own barf off the floor. I had to clear my head of all thoughts and focus on wiping the tiles in order to keep on moving.

In the end, I somehow made it to Stan's. But I had to leave his house early. I just couldn't focus anymore. I almost fainted onto my bed still in my clothes the second I arrived back home in my room…

I gasped myself back into the present time and I was kneeling on the floor of my shower, staring at the ripe bruise on my stomach.

The shower was running, its sound calm and relaxing like passing rain, the fume surrounding me like fresh morning mist.

I hugged my stomach helplessly and sobbed, hoping that the sound of running water was enough to kill my cry.

Why was Eric doing this? To me? To Butters before? We were his friends, his best friends. Why would he do this?

The water from the shower trickled down my face and mixed with my tears, creating a taste so horrible and disgusting I wished I could never cry again. But I couldn't help it. I was so confused, distraught, trapped.

The truth is, Eric didn't want friends. He wanted property. His own personal slave that reminded him of his own power and control.

But was that the only reason? Could that have been the only reason for him to do such horrid things?

.

Giving money to Eric had become almost of a regular thing. And as you do when it comes to money, I was running out of it. I put most of my money into the bank and drawing money out only to give it to Eric was not something that I was not going to do. That was my limit.

What would happen if I didn't have anything to give Eric was something that I had to find out sooner or later. And as nervous as I was, by the time it came I had made myself somewhat mentally prepared.

'Eric, I don't have any more money to bring in tomorrow.'

I told him, like a blank statement, after handing him ten dollars. He was humming, he was in a good mood, which made it not as bad, but I heard my heart beating in my throat nonetheless.

'What was that Kahl?'

I gulped.

'I said that I can't bring any money tomorrow. I don't have any.'

'Oh, Kahl- you don't need to bring money tomorrow.' Eric said with a bright smile. 'In fact, you don't need to bring in money the day after, or the day after that.'

I blinked. My heart jolted. 'Really?'

Eric chuckled, pulling his arm across my shoulders, making me sink under his weight.

'Kahl, Kahl, Kahl… it's all your choice.'

My heart sank.

Those words could've made me shudder, but instead I merely looked at the ground, my two feet planted onto it, holding me up. It was my choice, to buy my way out of pain, or to stand up to it and take it on. It's not as easy as it sounds. The ground seemed so far away that I wondered how I was even standing on my two thin feet.

But I was standing. Hell, I was.

I came to school empty handed the next day. And to tell the truth, I think Eric was waiting for that moment, the moment that I'll stop giving money to him. After all, money wasn't his concern.

But to my surprise, when I came to school the next day empty handed, I wasn't greeted by Eric's fist in my face or even a mild threat. He said that it was fine, and he even apologised for all his harshness earlier on. He pulled my shirt up and observed the bruise from his fist that inked my skin. He slid his fingers over it gently.

'It looks painful.' He said sympathetically.

But I don't know what would have been worse: his caring words or another punch in the gut. I was left in a daze watching him blankly as he released my shirt back over my skin that was shivering form the winter air. He left after that with a smile. And I stood there, my heart not racing, but my brain in furious knots.

For the rest of the day, my forehead hurt from tying my eyebrows together in confusion and suspicion. Eric Cartman continued his friendly act, as if the few months had never happened. Hey Kyle, we are friends, we are best friends, don't you remember?

Come to think of it, we were best friends weren't we? Ever since my super Best Friendship with Stan began to fade. We were always together. People would come to one of us in order to ask were the other was. Even during the time of Eric's torment that was the same, which made me realise, that to everyone else nothing had changed. Eric and Kyle. Kyle and Eric.

The whole day, Eric was nice, as in his normal, previous self. I told myself to not trust him; that is what caused the pain between my eyebrows. But a day past and another, until it was a few weeks had passed that Eric remained the same. By that time, I forgot about the pain in my stomach and the money that had been taken away from me. I let my guard down. Eric was my friend again.

My anxiety for him, almost fear for him returned not too long after. It was a Monday afternoon again and I was packing my bag ready to make my way to the library in order to wait for Stan.

'Hey, can I come over today Kyle?' He asked casually from next to me.

I found that question strange, I had told him a month or so ago that my Mondays were reserved for Stan, but I didn't think too deeply of it.

'No Eric,' I told him, dragging out my packed bag from my locker. 'I told you. I'm busy on Mondays-'

A second later, there was an exploding sound, and my locker was slammed shut right before my eyes. I instantly froze. The whole corridor fell silent, with the exception of my heart pounding in its small cage. The next thing I heard my breath shaking under his cold stare.

'Oops. Sorry Kahl.' He said with a thin smile, and walked off, leaving me standing without the capability to even swallow.

'Gee Kyle, what the fuck was that?' One of the kids, Kevin Stoley I think, asked me with a soft voice.

'I don't know…' I finally gulped down a chunk in my throat, gulped down my nervousness. 'He just… put too much power in by accident I guess…'

Kevin laughed and shook his head, his rich black hair dancing around him. 'Fucking football players!' He said and walked off.

I couldn't move for another whole minute. My brain had returned into agonising knots.

Eric… Who was he? What was he thinking?

If I come to think about it now, I think that small month of Eric playing nice again was just a challenge, a small test for me. Seeing how much trust he could gain back, and testing if I would choose him over Stan if we did return to our old friendship again.

But I failed. And failure always meant consequences.

.

I like PE, no matter what I have said before I do like it. Moving my body and taking away all the energy consumption from my brain to my muscles is nice for a change. And I'm not too bad at it either. I'm a fairly quick runner and I can jump. But I just can't tackle, or defend myself against it. I'm just not good at contact sport.

There was just one problem I had with PE: the change room. We all changed in the same room and naturally, somewhere in the room there will be Stan, shirtless or sliding his jeans down his hips. I had to keep my eyes focused on the wall, thinking about something else to keep my mind off Stan's naked form. And most times, I was successful at avoiding him.

But that day, I wasn't so successful. I don't know what got into me. Maybe it was because we had played basketball in PE, my acing sport taking away all my physical and mental energy. But I lost control of my eyes for a bare second and they wondered off, making their way to Stan dressing back into his clothes.

His back was bare; all the muscles toning his skin perfectly, the bones masculine and elegant underneath. He fiddled with the zipper of his jeans and then worked his belt on, that simple act erased everything inside of my brain.

'Kyle?' I heard someone call my name carefully in the distance, but it was so far, I didn't respond to it immediately.

'Kyle, what are you looking at?' The same voice asked again, and this time, Eric's head jumped into my view, blocking my sinful view of Stan Marsh. My heart jolted and I froze. Eric had caught me staring at Stan getting changed. My face instantly burned.

'Nothing!' I yelped, trying to pull Eric's attention away from what I had been staring at. 'Just in a daze.'

I felt his suspicious eyes search through me: my shaking eyes, my crooked and forced smile, and then down the slight sweat on my neck to my bare chest, it felt like he could scan right through the skin and bone and see my heart beating in panic inside.

But he didn't say anything. 'Oh,' is all he said before sliding out of my arm and making his way out of the change room.

I sighed in relief, my beating heart echoing in my ears. Thank god he didn't find out, I said to myself, and continued to change. This time, not getting distracted by Stan's half-naked form.

When I finally wriggled into my clothes and made it out of the change room, Eric was waiting just at the entrance. Leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, hips sinking deeply into the wall.

'Hey,' He said, voice ice-cold to my ears. My heart skipped a beat and I froze on my spot. The relief I felt a minute ago instantly disappeared and my breath was now shaking with every out take.

'Come to the bathroom with me, on the forth floor.'

I looked up at him hopelessly. His smile was menacing. And now I had to tell myself and admit it: we were back into our previous routine.

I pondered on behind him, eyes glued to the ground as I slowly wondered what it was going to be this time. Was Eric back to his old self again, his brutal, confusing self? And if so, was it going to be black mail? Verbal abuse? Or was he going to punch me again? My stomach sunk at that thought. The bruise of his fist on my stomach had finally wared off over the past month and my skin was back to its boring pale self.

But why did I have to follow him anyway? Couldn't I just tell him to stick it up his big fat ass and go home? Yeah he might punch me, abuse me, yeah he might-

My eyes flew open as a soft-looking boy came walking our way. His leaf-like strands of blond hair bounced, the sparkle in his eyes glimmered; but they all seemed to drop the instant he met my eyes. He quickly averted his eyes, as he always did, and swiftly walked past us. I felt myself go cold, remembering why I was here in the first place. I had taken his spot.

I gave up and chose to completely forget about the guy that was now safe on the sidelines. I focused my eyes back on Eric's back leading me to the forth floor, continuing my guesses for what he was going to do.

Physical or mental abuse, or was he going to tell everyone that I was staring at Stan getting changed? Tell everyone that I was gay for Stan Marsh. That was the most likely. And the thought made all the warmth and comfort in me wash away.

But I wasn't completely out of hope. He only caught me looking at Stan, so I still had a chance of dodging my way out. Be smart Kyle, be cunning. I tried to consolidate as much courage and confidence as I could as I followed Eric.

The second I slid through the bathroom door, Eric slammed the door behind me; the sound almost felt like an electrification to my body. I jumped, almost squeaked, and all the courage and confidence that I had gathered on the way instantly shattered against the tiled floor.

'So, what is it Kahl?'

After I regained my breath and looked up, Eric was leaning over me and looking straight down with his icy eyes. I was covered from head to toe with his shadow. He was leaning into his forearm, which was placed right above my head; I could almost feel his breath on my eyelashes.

'What- do you mean?'

Eric crashed his arm against the door behind me, making my words die in my throat, and he leaned in even deeper, he smiled even wider.

'I mean Kahl, about your little adoration you have towards your "Super Best Friend".' He spat the last three words out.

'I… don't know what you're talking about…' My words were weak, weak, weak.

'Oh, so you were drooling at Stan's naked body for nothing? I was just imagining things when you blushed like a fucking schoolgirl when you noticed what you were doing? Was that you holding in something other than lust, Kahl?'

I don't know if he was teasing me or confronting me. All I knew was that he was on the edge of an outburst of rage. I didn't know why he was so worked up, why he was so furious. The confusion and the fear paralysed my body and put my tongue in a knot.

'I, wasn't-'

'You should've told me that you liked Stan, Kahl. That would've given me something to laugh about when I was feeling down.'

'I said I don't-' My voice was shaking, my eyes were burning and my vision was beginning to blur. I felt helpless and truly powerless. Eric's eyes were almost frozen in fury as his sneering mouth continued to blurt out sardonic words.

'Is that why you are so happy on Mondays Kahl? Because it gives you an excuse to be alone with your crush, believe even for an instant that he is all yours?'

'I- I-'

A disregarded tear fell out of my eye. I couldn't help it. But Eric didn't twitch a muscle in response; he simply continued to move in, deeper and deeper.

'Do you jack off fantasising about him Kahl? Imagine him whisper sweet words into your ear as he fucks you deep in your ass?'

His hand crawled to my butt, gripping onto the meat as one of his fingers wormed his way to the centre. The movement sucked the breath out of me. I was terrified. Petrified. Watching Eric eyes burn holes into me, as his smile cut through ice. I had never been so scared before.

'Stop-' My voice shook, and even to me it was barely audible.

His finger began to twist into my pants, just against my hole.

'And I'm not surprised Kahl. I always knew you were a fucking faggot.'

'STOP IT!'

My fist landed on his face, right onto his cheek. It was an automatic act; I didn't think it through. But as I looked fearfully at Eric, his face down with his hair cast over his eyes like curtains, for what felt like a whole minute without a response, I began to relax. Maybe that one blow sent some sense into him-

The second I thought that a giant set of knuckles came shooting into my stomach. One hit was enough to send me straight into the white tiles of the floor. The pain only began to sink in when I felt a second blow into my back. This time it was boot foot, kicking me in rage as I squirmed against the frozen floor. His boot hit my spine, my ribs, my thighs and my waist as if I was his cheap boxing bag to relief his stress.

There was a ringing in my ears, and in the distance, I heard myself cough excruciatingly against the tiles. Spit, blood from my chewed lip, splattered onto the floor. I was breathing, although painfully. It was over…

Thick fingers dug into my hair and pulled my face up so that I was staring into Eric's eyes. They were cold and burning; make up your fucking mind.

'Well, that wasn't very nice, was it Kahl?' He hissed. 'I wouldn't do that again if I were you.'

The eyes. The eyes. That was all that I could focus on. And as I looked into his smoky orbs I figured out one thing, if I hadn't already known it before.

Eric Cartman was completely fucked up.

He always was.

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for reading. And thank you so much for your reviews! I am so absolutely, mind-blowingly grateful. **

**I hope I'm not going too fast. Feel free to tell me so, or anything else (like 'that chapter was way too long mate').**


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N- Thank you for R&Ring! Hope you enjoy~**

**Warning- for the horny girl, just in case.**

* * *

_Chapter Four: Blue Use_

People always take advantage over others, whether it is their feelings, stance, connections, anything. We all do it, even if it's unconscious.

Then why can't we help but think of it as an unforgiveable sin?

.

My ears were ringing through the rest of the day from the deafening sound of my own heartbeat. As I scraped my broken self off the floor, as I pondered wearily home, and as I collapsed onto my bed, it was still there. It came with me until I finally drowned myself into an anxious, painful sleep.

The last things I saw as I closed my eyes were Eric's fiery orbs staring at me from a few hours ago. The rage, the fury, and then in the pits of my stomach I knew, and it horrified me like no other: the lust. The lust for power, lust for control and the lust for absolute domination, it was there, deep down in the abyss of the flame burning in his eyes. It was there. And it was terrifying.

In the pit of my fear-driven sleep I had a nightmare of a set of two thick hands ripping off my clothes layer by layer, even when they reached my skin they didn't stop there. The hands tore at my skin, tearing off the tissues, muscles and breaking through the bones, until it finally reached my heart, my innermost deepest secrets. And from then on, if it was even possible, the violation only got worse.

I was finally released from the hands violating every inch of my body when I woke up panting in the middle of the night. As I listened to each of my desperate breaths, looked at my pillow damp with sweat, I knew: I couldn't let Eric know my secrets. I needed to distract him, or to distract myself from him.

For him to find out my secrets: the consequences terrified me.

.

There was only one thing that came to my unimaginative mind that would keep Eric from not knowing my sexual orientation: getting a girl. Easy, it sounded simple, not that I liked it or anything. But I was panicked. I was desperate. And there was a candidate right in front of me.

She noticed me coming her way in the school hallway, and at that second, she giggled, flicked her hair, and winked at me. I almost felt Goosebumps erupt, but I squeezed that feeling down and stitched a smile onto my face. To be honest, it was only that second that I first thought of the plan. But it was followed through quickly.

'Hey Bebe.' I said, playing around with the tone of my voice, but clearly uncomfortable and inexperienced with trying to ask out someone on a date.

'Hi Kyle.' She batted her eyes and looked up, about to lick her lips any second. God, could a girl be any more blatant? I was already getting second thoughts about this.

There was a sudden tingling in my head and I looked up from her and stared hardly into the hallway, and there, I saw Eric Cartman looking towards my direction, eyebrows raised in curiosity. That instantly settled my stomach in place. I was ready to do anything to keep my secret from him.

I looked back down at Bebe, who was a nice couple inches shorter than me, and smiled warmly, or flirtatiously, if you like.

'I was wondering if you wanted to go get coffee with me sometime.' The shakiness was gone; my voice was nothing but confidence and smoothness.

'Coffee?' She said and giggled, no, full on laughed. It confused me, and I almost frowned. 'Nobody has said that to me before. I like it. Classy.' She said, strangely calm after such laughter. 'How about a movie, instead?'

Well, at least she knew what I came for.

'Cool,' I twitched a smile, and walked off. To be honest I was a little lost. What was cool? What was wrong with coffee? I had no idea. But at least now I could pretend that I was straight enough to go out with one of the most eyed girls of our year level.

As I walked past Eric I didn't even cast an eye on him, but I saw him. I saw the amused expression coated with curiosity and almost a challenging stare. I suddenly felt good. It suddenly felt like I had power and control, something I felt as though Eric had completely stripped away from me the day before.

I picked a movie and I picked the time, I forgot the name of the movie now, it wasn't that inspirational. But it wasn't that mind numbingly boring. Just stupid, cliché, but it was all right. Bebe enjoyed it. I think. At least that is what she told me before pulling me into an empty alleyway on our way home.

'What are you doing-' the words barely made their way out of my mouth before Bebe attacked my lips with a wet kiss, tongue caressing my lips, trying to pry my mouth open. I was completely taken aback. It was nothing like the kiss she gave me all those years ago.

Yeah, Bebe kissed me before, when we were eight. I've only kissed three people before and both two girls were complete sluts. The other one was a guy, but it was accidental. We were trying to spit into each other's mouth and swallow down the saliva and the other boy got a little too into it. He connected our mouths thinking it would be easier and sent his spit straight down my throat. I coughed and breathed against his lips.

'I won.' He said with a grin, wiping the saliva that was coating his lips and chin.

'Fuck you Kenny, that doesn't count!'

We were in elementary, or maybe it was in the first year of junior high. I don't know, but the blond was still here, with his confident eyes and habitual smile. I know I was blushing like crazy, and I don't think it was from the humiliation of losing, although that was how I acted. But I didn't know that I was gay yet, so kissing a guy was meant to be nothing but disgusting.

Lost in memory, my body felt something warm and wet suck my neck, and I gasped back to reality in surprise. That second, Bebe's mouth attacked mine again and this time, her tongue danced its way inside.

I heard myself groan, but it mostly died under her loud moans, thank god. As she sucked my lips, licked my mouth and neck, grabbed my ass all I was thinking was: this is our fucking first date! I wasn't very happy, and I wasn't very prepared for it.

Her face moved down and I had my eyelids knitted together tightly, until I heard the cluttering of my belt and tugging around my hips. My eyes shot right open and I backed up against the wall as much as I could.

'What the fuck are you doing?' I whispered.

'I just want to give you something nice, baby.'

'No,' That was my limit. I was not about to get a blowjob from a chick on our first date.

'Why not?' She said, frowning in confusion as she got to her feet.

I smiled at her troublingly, and swang my arm around her shoulder.

'I just don't feel like it tonight, okay?' God. This was our first fucking date and already we sound like we've been together for the last seven years. Or maybe to her, that is what it felt like. Or maybe she was just a complete slut and it didn't matter to her.

But the thing is, the couple of months that I had been with her could have been one of my most enjoyable time of high school. Once being rejected of giving a blowjob she stepped back a bit, just a bit. Her kisses were still fierce and very public and I felt her eyes glue themselves on my butt sometimes, but if I ignored that, then she was good company. She was smart, some people may be surprised by this, but she was, and it was a pity she hardly showed it.

'Smart girls get no fun baby.' She had once said to me. I think that was the most intelligent thing she had ever said.

The only thing that made my heart sink though, was Stan. I couldn't have expected anything more, but when he gave me the widest smile on our Monday evening and congratulated me about my new girlfriend with the most sincere happiness, I have to say, it hurt.

The best thing about those months that Bebe and I were together though, was definitely Cartman. He barely did anything to me; he merely watched me from a distance with that amused stare. And it felt good. Even though his reaction really meant nothing but trouble. It meant that he was not buying our lovey-dovey act.

If he believed that I was actually straight and loved Bebe Stevens, then he would have felt humiliated, and he probably would have hurt me even more than before. But no, he didn't do that. He didn't do anything at all. He only watched me as if I was a fucking guineapig. Watching me believe that I was safe from him, while he knew that it was all going to end soon enough.

And it did. It happened on the last day of spring break.

Bebe invited me to her house, saying that her family was out and that we were free to use the home cinema in her basement without any disturbance. I couldn't think of a good enough excuse to decline, so I went. I was always horrible at making excuses.

'Hey, baby-' She welcomed, interrupting her own words by giving me a big kiss. She was excited.

After releasing my mouth her hand shot for mine, I noticed that her nails were freshly polished with a seducing red, the colour that matched her lips. I also noticed the shortness of her skirt; you could almost see her underwear with every step she took. And her V-neck shirt that showed her laced bra now and then. If I was straight and had low self-control she probably would have been on the floor by now, but the only thing I could think as I saw her clothes was: I hope she's not planning to seduce me again.

I noticed by the time that we entered our second month that she was getting a little hungry with lust. She didn't rip my pants off or anything but she would press her breasts up against me as strong us she could when we kissed out of public and rubbed her crotch against my knee when she sat on my lap as if her pussy was itching for a fuck. And hell, it definitely was.

'Wow, what's all this?'

The cold and eerie basement had turned into a romantic cinema, decorated with red aromatic candles that smelled of roses, just in case the real flowers in the vase wasn't enough already.

'Oh, you silly!' She giggled. 'It's our ten-week anniversary!'

Ten weeks… Wow. What an achievement. That must have been a long time for her considering how much deal she made out of it.

'And look!' She said, pulling out a bottle from underneath the small table. 'I've got us some wine.' She winked. I smiled. I hate alcohol.

She pulled me, with her polished hands, to the soft couch, the only thing comfortable so far, and turned on the TV.

'It's okay. I've only got us good movies.' And what came on in response to her words was another tacky romance film. I glanced at the rating on the DVD box lying on the table: strong sex scenes. Great…

As I leaned myself deep into the couch, I tried to make my body as comfortable as possible to replace the uncomfortableness of my mind and Bebe leaning against my shoulder. Her arms were pressed against her chest, squishing the meat together, as her hands rested on mine. I could feel her eyes on me, checking if I was looking at her boob appeal, so I kept my eyes firmly on the terrible film. It was when the sex scene came on that that became sort of a challenge. I wasn't used to porn of any form.

The man grunted as he thrust into the woman, but the low voice was overpowered by the high pitched moaning of the woman and her loud breaths. The man was attractive, as they are in romance films, his abs tight and lips moist. Those are the things I began to focus on as Bebe's breaths became slightly heavier beside me. I took a glimpse at the wine glasses on the table: one was Bebe's, half empty, and mine was mostly full.

A sudden shudder shook my stomach as I felt something slimy on my left fingers and I looked down to see Bebe licking them one by one, kissing them and licking them with her wet tongue and hot breaths.

'What are you doing?'

'Don't you like it?' She asked with seducing eyes.

No I don't actually, I thought, so I returned my eyes back to the fucking couple on the screen without saying a word. But then I felt her breath on my neck, and then the wetness came on my ear, making me shiver. She kissed my ear and my neck, over and over.

'Oh Kyle, baby, come on-' She breathed deeply through her nostrils.

'Bebe, you're drunk,' I said, but she ignored that comment by pushing me deep into the couch, repeating my name over and over again.

She was on all fours, trapping me under her as she kissed me and rubbed herself all over me. I was frozen. She finally grabbed my unresponsive hand and moved it up her top, making me feel the lace of her bra and then the freed meat underneath. She began to moan and rub herself more aggressively against my sleeping crotch as she twisted my thumb into her nipples.

'Oh, Kyle- don't you want me?' She gasped. I didn't say anything. I was still in shock.

Her breathing became heavier and heavier as did her moans, until finally, she stopped her thrusting and dragged my hand out of her top, only to pull it into her skirt. At first I felt lace, and then I thought I was going to be sick as I felt the wetness seeping through the thin fabric. She rubbed my hand against it, strongly, as her other hand began fiddling with the zipper of my jeans. That fucking did it.

'Babe-' I said, finally gaining back control of my own body. It was pathetic how easily I lost control of my own body, how easily I froze, even towards my own "girlfriend". I dragged my hand out of her skirt and sat up, making her slide off of me. She looked up at me with confused eyes, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

'Bebe, I don't think this is working.'

'Wha- what do you mean?'

I looked at her, her shaking eyes, and I almost believed for a second that she actually liked me- a lot. But my next words were clear.

'I think we should break up.'

I don't know if those words were only because of the heat of the moment, but I don't think I even considered the consequences. Eric was around the corner, waiting for me to break up and admit my sexuality to him and my love for Stan. But right now, all I could think was to get away from that horny girl.

I left immediately after that, leaving Bebe in her basement still as a stone from the shock of my words. At that moment, I didn't think too deeply of it. But when the next day came and my phone was filled with missed calls and text messages from Bebe Stevens I knew: I was the worst person in the whole world. I had used Bebe, I never even considered her feelings before I heard her messages muffled with tears.

I had broken someone's heart for my own safety. I always thought that I was morally correct but then, what was that? I was a complete bastard, a traitor of trusts, just like Cartman. The sudden thought turned all my insides to ice.

The safe walls that had been surrounding me for the past couple of months instantly crumbled to the ground. I was going to pay for what I had done, and I would deserve all of it. But when I look back at what happened to me afterwards I ask myself, _would anybody have deserved that?_

.

The next day, school returned from spring break. My stomach was aching from what I would have to go through. Would Bebe cry, scream or slap me in public? I knew that all the girls would hate me and would be glaring at me for hurting their "friend". It was strange. Girls fought and talked behind each other's backs but when a guy hurt one of them it's suddenly "You're the most sweetest person I can't believe he did that!". It's like the only people that are allowed to hurt girls' feelings are the girls themselves.

Ha… I know one person like that. No actually, he didn't mind other people hurting me at all. He just loved hurting me himself times and times more.

'Hey,' that person said with a slight sneer tinting his lips. I had just slammed my locker shut to find him leaning against the locker next to mine. My heart jumped the second our eyes met.

'Hi Eric.' I mumbled and began walking away. His sneer grew, and he began following me with ease until his next words made me stop dead in the hallway.

'So, where's your girlfriend today, Jew?'

'…Huh?'

He obviously noticed the glares and whispers I had been receiving from the girls all day, and the fact that Babe wasn't rubbing her body all over me. I knew this was going to come. I thought I was ready for it. But hell, I was nervous.

'I said, why isn't Bebe here shoving your face in her tits?' But his smile told me clearly that he already knew.

'We broke up.' I stated simply, and began walking again. But he continued to follow me. Both our footsteps echoed loudly in the empty corridor. 'It wasn't working out so I called it quits. That's all, Eric.' My voice was firm, but Eric's grunts told me that he was far from convinced.

'Really, Kahl? I thought it was because you were gay.'

The frustration and secret fear made me stop and turn to face Eric head-on, but Eric took that chance to grab my jaw and swing me against the wall, trapping me in his grip.

'I thought it was because you were a fucking fag Kahl,' he leaned into my ear and whispered softly. 'I thought it was because you couldn't stand that fucking whore rubbing her cunt all over you while the only thing you're interested in is cock.'

Let me go, that's not true, it's none of your business: all the words I wanted to say were silenced by the hand clenching firmly onto my chin. I wiggled in his grip to gain freedom for my words and squeeze them out of my nervous mouth.

'Don't fucking touch me you big fat piece of shit.'

My words were weak, but they were enough of an invitation for Eric to knee me in the gut. I let out a yelp of pain and slid to the ground. It wasn't a hard blow, but it still hurt like fuck.

'I can't understand why you are so defensive about admitting your sexuality Kahl. I mean, you can't become any less popular than you are now.'

'What do you mean?'

Eric laughed as I twitched in confusion. 'Kahl, everybody hates you!'

'That's not true!' The shock was apparent in my wide eyes. 'I have friends- The girls keep on glaring at me but who cares-'

'Or how about if I change my words Kahl,' Eric interrupted. 'How about if I say that everybody _will_ hate you.'

I felt my stomach sink in fear. 'What are you going to do?'

'No, Kahl. I don't have to do anything. It's all what you have done.'

'What? I haven't done anything!'

'Oh, come on Kahl.' Eric crouched down and slid his hand onto my shoulder before continuing. 'You hurt Bebe. And tell me, what is the one thing you hurt of Bebe Stevens?'

I thought for a second, thinking of the right words to described my guilt. 'Err…her heart?'

A snort, and then a short cackling followed, clearly mocking my guess.

'Cute, but no. What you had hurt Kahl, was her ego. Her pussy-juice coated pride, I should say.'

What he said, those icy, self-confident words were for once all true. I had humiliated Bebe, and the consequences would be more than just girls glaring and whispering behind my back. And Eric only needed to sit back and relax for a while.

Eric got up after being satisfied of my response and started walking away, until he stopped in mid-tracks, as if he had just remembered something.

'But I'm surprised you haven't heard what Bebe is saying about you.'

'What?' I asked tiredly. 'What is she saying?'

Eric smirked at my cluelessness amusingly.

'She says that you tried to force yourself onto her, and that you broke up because she was being too defensive.'

He left those words behind and walked away, humming his usual song as he went. Leaving me, as always, in the echo of his words, lost, confused, and shocked, and in the echo of his song.

But the truth was, what Eric said to me that day was a complete lie. Bebe didn't say those things about me on the first day back from the holidays. Eric just made that up. But by a couple of weeks or so later, it was as if the words Eric used to fuck with my mind had come true.

A week later, it was apparent that I had tried to force myself on Bebe. It was what I got for using her feelings she had for me and then betraying her. Just like Eric did to my trust for him and our friendship.

Maybe what people say is true. What goes around comes around, but in countless multiples.

.

My guilt towards using Bebe's feelings slowly began to disappear as the glaring eyes of girls began to soften and Bebe's chuckles began to echo through the hallway. As I made my way to my next class the sound came ringing into my ears.

Bebe was in the arms of Clyde Donovan, chuckling as the football player kissed her lightly over and over again on her cheeks, her hair and her neck. It was only a week since I called it off with her and already she had a new boyfriend. That was fast. Well, at least it meant that Bebe didn't care that much about me, and that the break-up didn't matter to her.

But as I walked past the couple, the soft laughter suddenly stopped. My eyebrow twitched in confusion and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Clyde pull his girlfriend closer to him protectively, and Bebe's eyes cold and thin, looking at me with a matching frozen smile. The confusion sank to my stomach nervously. I understood Bebe's expression, but what was Clyde staring at? It's not like I was going to snatch his girlfriend off of him. He eyed me dangerously with distaste as I walked off.

It was later that day when I figured out the true meaning of his glare and his protective arms around Bebe.

'Kyle, I need to talk to you.'

I thought he wanted some advice on how to deal with Bebe from me, or somewhere along that line. He led me to the quiet side of the school, the place where Eric first took money from me. I didn't like that place.

'What do you want?' I just wanted to get out of there.

Clyde stopped and turned towards me and instantly, I froze. The colour in his eyes were not pleading for advice, they were simmering with rage.

'Bebe told me not to tell anyone, but I guess telling you won't matter.' He began quietly. My heart was beginning to speed up. 'Besides. You already know what you've done, don't you?'

'What are you talking about?' He took a step towards me, I took a step back, and then another, and then another, until I felt my back hit the wall. It was cold in his shadow.

'Don't play dumb you little shit. Bebe told me why you broke up with her, what you had done to her.' My heart jolted, remembering the lie Eric had told me a week before. 'I thought you were decent Kyle, innocent, moral… Not someone who'll force Bebe into doing something she wasn't ready for then break up with her for refusing you.'

Before I could think, a thick hand grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me up. I gritted my teeth and stared into his cold eyes barely an inch away from mine.

'Don't you ever touch Bebe again. Don't you ever go near her, speak to her, hell, don't even look at her! Or I swear, I'll break you.'

He let go of me and instantly walked off, letting me fall to the ground like a broken doll. I tried to gather up his words and my thoughts, and then slowly, I began to laugh. The sound was cold and empty in the spring air.

What a blind, stupid, arrogant dick! Playing the knight for his new whore of a girlfriend, believing every single word that bitch says! Being all high-and-mighty, thinking you're protecting Bebe from the perverted hands of powerless me!

Traitorous, fatuous, powerless me…

This was a consequence I had to accept. But if I was being punished for betraying someone's trust, why wasn't Eric being punished? Or was his attitude towards me all my punishment?

What had I ever done to deserve such a thing?

.

I shook under the eyes of Clyde and Bebe, Bebe's cold sneer and Clyde's stone-like eyes watching me. I would forget to blink as I walked past them, forget to breathe, cast my eyes to the ground…

'_Don't even look at her! Or I swear, I'll break you…'_

I would hear him smirk as he pulled Bebe closer to himself, observing my reactions.

'_She says that you tried to force yourself onto her…'_

That was the only thing I could do. Keep out of their way, don't associate with them and their private world, because it is impossible to defend yourself against lies. It is impossible when you're all alone.

If I was still best friends with Eric, I would probably go to him for help. But now, he would just watch.

I looked back up when I had completely passed the couple and I found Eric in the distance, staring at me. A cold sneer, yet with a different colour from Bebe, cutting through my chest. There was no satisfaction or accomplishment in that smile, not like usual when he saw me suffer under his own hands.

Unlike the couple, I stared right back at him with a blank gaze, not averting my eyes, just simply taking in his smoky orbs until I passed his side. At least Eric wouldn't lie about me. He was straightforward. He wouldn't lie…

'Come to the forth floor after school-' Eric's quiet voice travelled to my ear as I walked past him.

The forth floor… It was over a couple of months since I went up there. The last time I went up there I dragged myself back down with bruises all over my body. It was what I got after punching Eric for…

The sensation of his thick fingers crawling around me shot a freezing shiver down my spine. I had no idea why he wanted me up there, and I didn't even want to imagine it.

With a thumping heart and an aching stomach, I went straight home that day. But the second I shut the front door behind me, I regretted it.

Even if I didn't go today, tomorrow would come. Tomorrow would bring Eric to me.

.

The corridor was silent as I stared at my locker, surrounded by countless more identical metal.

'You didn't come yesterday.' The breath brushed against my neck. The corridor was silent, but I wasn't alone. I didn't respond, just kept my eyes firm on my locker, not getting them mixed up with any of the others.

The voice said nothing more, but a hard hand grasped mine and pulled me along the hallway. I debated whether to break free and run away or do as he said to make up for the day before. But before I could come up with an answer, we had arrived at the back of the school.

I looked straight into the smoky eyes of Eric Cartman, not shaking, not saying a word and standing firm. My body had been doing this naturally towards Eric lately, but as I traced back my memories, I think I know why I did it.

He once said that my responses were hilarious, so if I didn't respond to him, his words or his punches, then maybe he would get bored and go away. Just one punch Kyle, or a kick or any kind of abuse, just one. Don't make a sound and stand firm. Don't respond.

His smoky eyes didn't move, and neither did mine. We stood there for a few seconds without moving an inch, until his lips curled up into thin smile.

'So is that how it is?' He muttered, and then a piercing pain shot through my scalp as his left hand grasped my hair with all its power. I grit my teeth, but still didn't make a noise. The smile on Eric's lips grew wider along with his eyes.

'You shake in fear just by going near Clyde and Bebe, but you think you don't need to even respond to me, is that it?' He tugged my hair and bashed the back of my head against the wall beside me. I yelped by accident, a small error, which gave Eric what he wanted and making his smile grow even further.

Fuck, I gasped as my eyes twirled from the impact. Trying to not respond was a bad idea, responding was a bad idea-

'_Your response is hilarious!'_

I blinked my eyes wide open and shut my mouth. No. Responding was a worse idea-

The grip on my hair loosened and I quietly sighed in relief, just before the hand shot its fist into my face. _Blood_. I gasped in pain, my eyes blurred and my legs turned to jelly, but I managed to keep myself on my two feet, looking up at the blurry figure in front of me. I couldn't breathe through my nose so I opened my mouth.

'Don't worry Kahl. Your nose isn't broken.' He stated and grasped my loose jaw, pushing me into the wall. 'Still not saying anything?'

I could taste blood in my mouth, but still I said nothing. The only thing I could hear was my desperate breath. Slowly, my vision began to return. I almost wished it had stayed blurred once my eyes met his burning smile. His rage-

My eyes widened. My breathing stopped. The grip on my jaw tightened its grasp as Eric's face leaned into me. There was no sound, no wind, no ticking of time. The world stopped.

Rage, rage, rage… Where is the line between you and passion?

His mouth was on mine, thick, hot tongue entered me, violating me. My hands cut the air, desperate to push him away, but his aggressive grip on my jaw kept me in tact. His tongue was strong and firm, worming against my own.

Red. My blood, the rage, the passion.

I felt my brain scramble, then melt and burn through my body like acid. I never knew there were such sensations in the world, such disgusting, sickening…

My knees hit the ground when I was finally released. I had finally gained my breath back, but there was no breathing. My brain had finally regained its structure, but there was no thinking. Until slowly, they began to build, until I was panting my lungs out and my brain was in knots.

'What the fuck was that!'

I screamed at Eric who was looking down on me with a blank daze. What was that, what was that, what was that! I could still feel something firm and hot crawl inside my mouth, burn my tongue and slide down my throat. I glared daggers at Eric with disgust and hatred, but his face was still blank… My eyes lost its strength.

There was a small chuckle, and then another, louder. There was cackling coming from the top of Eric's throat, his shoulders silently shaking. He opened his mouth and sent a burst of laughter into the blue sky. The laughter, the laughter.

I watched him in horror as he continued to laugh. It seemed to be bouncing off the mountains in the distance, but really, the sound was echoing in my head. I couldn't say a word as he continued to laugh. I couldn't say anything. Confused and petrified.

Eric was completely insane.

.

I washed my mouth before I went home, over and over again until my whole mouth went numb. The whole time I could still hear Eric's laughter in my ears. My tongue felt like it was burning. My mouth was still hot-

My hands grasped the edges of the sink and my fingers dug into the enamel. I felt every single hair on my back stand up as I arched my spine. I asked myself for the hundredth time again, 'what the fuck was that?' The question repeated as I walked home.

'Oh my GOD!'

My mother screeched as I entered the front door. The voice tore my ears and for that second I couldn't hear Eric's laughter.

'What?' I looked around confusedly.

'Ka-Kyle, what happened to you?' She was pointing at my face with a horrified expression.

Oh shit. I forgot to wash the blood from my nose. I was too desperate washing my mouth.

'Nothing.' I clasped my nose. 'Just- got hit in PE-'

'Kyle, you don't have PE on Wednesdays.' My little brother murmured as he appeared from the living room couch. I glared at him and his inconvenient intelligence. His comment made my mom lose her mind.

'What, what, _what_! Kyle! Why would you lie about your injury!' She bellowed. 'Unless someone had punched you at school-' She gasped.

'Ma-'

'That's it isn't it bubbe?' Her voice was suddenly soft. 'You were hurt at school by someone and you wanted to hide it from us because you're so sweet and kind-'

'Ma-'

'I'm going to call the school! Tell everyone about the violence!' Her voice turned into a growl. 'I always knew that that school was not a suitable place! All the kids seem to be so friendly but they are all wild and you don't know what they are doing while all the teachers try to seem so nice, but they are really nothing but under-educated, useless people who take education lightly.' She turned to me. I couldn't say anything, lost in her rant of education and public schools. But her voice turned soft again. 'Kyle, don't you want to go to a more safer, proper school? You could go to Glenvale or Newton down in the city or-'

'MA!' I yelled, desperate for her to stop and she did, frozen with shocked eyes. We had this conversation over and over again in the past, with every single little complaint I had about school… I couldn't stand it. I had told myself long ago not to say any complaints to my mother. She always has to blow everything up and announce it to the world, making things much worse than possible.

'Ma, I'm not changing schools.' I said, trying to keep myself calm. 'I bashed my face on the railing when I slipped on the stairs. I didn't want to tell you because it was embarrassing.'

I walked up the stairs to my room, stopping by at the bathroom to wash the blood off my face. My nose still throbbed, but it wasn't too bad. I could touch it without flinching. That was how she acted with one bloody nose, imagine her reaction if she saw all the bruises I got earlier on on my body. I wonder what she'd say if I told her that a guy forcefully kissed me.

My whole body was exhausted, even worse my mind. But the second I collapsed onto my bed I remembered my homework and sat up.

I figured that the burning of my mouth, the ranting voice of my mom and Eric's laughter echoing in my head all disappeared when I opened my text book and placed my pen to paper. The sound of writing, the letters and the pictures flowing into my brain were the only things that existed.

It was when I put my pen down and closed my textbook, my homework done, my distraction finished, that everything began to collide on top of me again. I felt a strong urge for water and ice to numb my tongue free of Eric's taste, but I didn't want to go back down and face my mother yet. So I collapsed down onto my bed, praying for the mattress to drown me into sleep. It didn't work, so I blocked my ears with headphones and drowned myself into music instead.

The classical songs and traditional pop music freed my mind from reality and took me to another era, before myself, or anyone I knew even existed. Until Billie sang her song, the melody shooting my eyes wide in shock as I heard the melody of Eric's usual humming. I felt his taste in my mouth again and threw the headphones off my ears, digging my face into my pillow as hard as I could, until near-suffocation finally took me into sleep.

And still Billie's voice echoed in my head, singing that it had to be you.


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N- Hello, thanks for reading. Hope you, um, enjoy?**

**Warning- contains some non-consensual act.**

* * *

_Chapter Five: Blue Punishment_

Recently, I've begun to think that there is a God in everyone. That there is this sacred Heaven inside people that lets us do the most kind and extraordinarily beautiful things.

Before, I thought there was only one person that possessed it, but now I try to hope that it is in everyone.

Because I also know that there is the Devil in everyone.

.

The kiss didn't last in my mind for a long time; there was a distraction.

They didn't last one month, Clyde and Bebe. The year was coming to a close; the summer holidays were just around the corner. But I wasn't surprised, no one was. No one lasted long with Bebe (I think I held the record with two months). The only person who didn't expect it, or was furious at least when it happened, was Clyde.

But honestly? I was a little relieved. Clyde would surely get over Bebe real soon and forget about the lie that she told about me. That is what I thought.

A couple of days later when I hopped onto the school bus, the first step I took instantly created a heavy silence. I felt the eyes of every peer dig into me as I gazed confusedly at the people on the bus. The first step I took created a whisper, and then I took another, and another, and by the time I made my way to the empty seat at the back, cold whispers were surrounding me. It was only when the bus roared to life did the people stop whispering and returned back to their conversations.

The glares, there they were again, a few people bumped into me in the hallway, clearly on purpose. At first I thought I was imagining things, but when two guys came up to me at lunch, I knew that it was not my imagination. There was disgust in the air that was directed at me.

'Who do you think you are, man?' One of the guys growled. Just one simple push from his trained arms and I was sent crashing into the lockers. They were both in my year, but I didn't remember their names yet. I had seen them a couple of times while waiting for Stan on Mondays so I guessed they were on the football team.

There were a couple of people around watching with their arms crossed, glaring, but not at them ganging up in a threatening way, but at me.

'What are you talking about?' I hissed, trying to gather strength to my eyes and glare myself. But my attitude caused a hand to grab my collar and a fist to collide into my face.

'You know what you fucking did, you fucking rapist!'

The shock of the punch echoing inside my head made the words hard to sink in, but they did.

'Rape? What-'

A second fist collided with my jaw. 'Don't you fucking "what" us, you sick fuck!'

'Don't you ever think of doing that again- no, don't you ever even touch a girl again!'

They spat and walked off, swinging their arms out wide, walking arrogantly. I looked around and found two girls looking down at me as if I was a dying bug. They flicked their hair and walked away.

I was so confused, but I had an idea. What Clyde had told me a few weeks ago about me forcing myself on Bebe; it had to be about that. Now that they had broken up, Clyde had chosen to take his frustration out on me by telling Bebe's lie to everyone. What else could it be?

I pressed my forehead against the cold surface of my locker and looked down at my shaking hand. So weak. Was this the hand of a rapist? Why would people believe such rumours so easily? I chuckled weakly.

Maybe it didn't matter to people if it was a lie or not. Maybe people just took this chance to feel disgusted towards others so that they could feel better about themselves. In reality, there were now guys trying to look good in front of girls by punching me for a rumour. What a joke.

Or was this my punishment?

I stared at the plain surface of my locker for a second, and then slowly drew away. My brain was blank, my body felt like a stone as my insides were cold and still. But my heart was loud as I pondered slowly through the hallway. Everyone would be at lunch… I chose to go outside.

There were a couple clean clouds in the air, soft like fairy floss in the rich blue sky. The weather was beautiful in that mocking way as I leaned against the school wall and stared up. There was a soft breeze too, that made their way in and out of the open windows of the building. It was so quiet, not a soul to disturb me, to confuse me.

That was until I heard some voices from the inside of the open window.

'So… are you okay? I heard what happened to you.' The voice was quiet and careful, not knowing that I was outside. My quiet was broken, so I kneeled up in order to leave, but the next voice I heard stopped me mid-kneel.

'What?'

Bebe-

'You know- about your ex-boyfriend? Before that football player. Kyle B-something.'

As if to break the tension of the girl's careful voice, Bebe's chuckling filled the air, grasping my lungs and pulling my hair.

'Oh that? God, Clyde has such a big fucking mouth, doesn't he?' She said through her laughter. 'I'm fine, honey!'

I could tell that Bebe's friend was frozen in confusion with her amusement. I was too.

'Bu-but didn't he like, force you into…'

'You mean did he rape me? Oh, Lara honey, I wish!' She was still laughing and I felt the hairs on my back stand up. What the hell was she saying?

'But no,' Bebe continued. 'I only said that to Clyde as an excuse to break up with him. He was always so fucking horny, and he just isn't my type, you know? I like the sensitive fragile type, but defiant, like an abandoned kitten, kinda. The type you want to tease and step on. Clyde's more the obedient mucho, sporty type; urgh!'

What the fuck? Was that me she was talking about?

The other girl's cackles made my heart thump back to reality.

'Oh, Bebe! You're such a sadistic bitch!' She joked the truth.

'I know I am.'

I heard them get to their feet as they laughed. My inside were slowly beginning to boil, my breath quickening as my body slightly shook. So that lie about me, why everyone was hating me, punching me, glaring at me, spitting at me- it was all so that Bebe could break up with Clyde?

The girls' laughter seemed to grow louder as my rage began to simmer.

'But you know?' Bebe's voice said as they walked away. 'Kyle deserves it.'

Those words made realisation hit me, making me shoot my eyes wide open; my rage instantly disappeared.

So in the end, this all _was _for what I had done.

This _was_ my punishment.

.

The two weeks, which the rumour was still new and shocking in people's ears, were one of my loneliest days in my life so far. I chose to stay out of people's way; at least that made any more violence stay away. But there were small things that were extremely frustrating or dampening of the spirits. There were notes slid into my locker with nothing more than a simple "rapist" or "die", being shoved was frequent and I found my clothes drenched in water after PE. Thing's that I would classify as general bullying.

Magically, the teachers didn't notice though. How could they suspect that that perfect, straight-A student Kyle Broflovski would be hated and bullied? That was just not possible.

One of the most shocking things though, were my friends. There was something inside me that told me that they wouldn't believe in the rumour because they knew that I wasn't that sort of person. But on the forth day or so, when I finally began to get used to people's glares and disgust, I chose to sit back in the cafeteria.

'Get lost Kyle.'

I gaped at them. A couple of them were glaring at me, the others were averting their eyes to their food.

'What do you mean?' My voice shook, not from sadness, but anger. 'You don't really believe in that stupid rumour do you?'

The table stayed quiet after my rising voice, but they continued to avert their eyes. I grit my teeth and walked away.

I wondered where Stan was. He wasn't at the table and I hadn't seen him at school lately. He was probably sick. I wish he was here, Stan would be able to believe me. It was Monday, I would tell him everything after school, he would believe… Who was I kidding? Nobody would believe you Kyle. See how easily those guys turned their backs on you?

I stared at my food, suddenly losing appetite.

_I wonder where Eric is…_

My fists bashed against the table in disgust, the sound dying in the yells of the cafeteria.

Why do you care where Eric is? What, now that you're all alone, you wish that Eric were here for company? I gritted my teeth and filled mouth angrily with chips. I was happy that Eric wasn't here, I couldn't have been any happier!

But Eric did keep me company later that day; he was the only person that kept me company. After school, on the forth floor where nobody was watching, he kept me company.

'I told you people would hate you Kahl. And look, I was right.' Eric breathed, leaning into me until I was sinking deep into the wall behind me. 'Don't you think that they're all pathetic traitors? You thought that they were you're friends and now they have easily turned their backs on you.' He smiled softly. 'But I'm different Kahl, I believe you. I know you wouldn't do that to anyone. I won't betray you.'

He was loving it. While I was so alone, he was the only one that had my attention. He was the only one I could count on. But-

'No Eric.' I said slowly and quietly. 'You betrayed me ages ago.' I was glaring up into his eyes, making his smile disappear for a quick second.

I walked home with a new bruise on my stomach and crawled straight into bed. I didn't go out for three days straight. I told my mum that I was sick, she believed me. I never lied to her, and if I was staying in bed not wanting to go to school then I must have been _really_ sick.

I finally got out of bed on Friday. I could make it through one day before the weekend.

My head was feeling like it was missing a brain: hollow. My mum instantly brightened up as I walked down the stairs that morning, but my little brother eyed me with worry.

'Are you okay Kyle?' He whispered to me over the breakfast table.

'Yeah.' I mumbled. 'Why?'

'Dude, you look like your soul just got sucked out of your nose with a vacuum cleaner.'

I chuckled weakly, but didn't say anything. My mind was filled with the cloud of the fact that I had to go to school. I had run away and hid in my bed for days, and this time I had to drag my miserable self out of there, because there was no Kenny to do it for me now.

That day at school was mostly the same, if not worse. I shouldn't have rested school; it showed weakness. 'What a shame.' Someone said to me, after seeing me back at school. 'You should've never come back.' I agreed in my heart.

Stan was still not at school, which I found almost worrying. I called his house once, but nobody answered. I wanted to ask someone what was up with him, but who would I have asked?

I made it through that day though, without too much suffering and I hid in the weekend. But Monday came, almost too quickly and the only thing I could do was to choose not to expect anything anymore. I didn't expect Stan to be at school or for the petty bullying to stop. It was easier that way, to not get your hopes up.

But sometimes, even those anti-expectations are betrayed.

'Kyle!'

I shuddered in response to the person's call and swiftly turned my head in defence towards the voice. But the frown and tension in my face instantly dropped.

'Stan?'

'Hey Kyle.' He said, jogging up to me. I quickly put my things into my locker and faced him properly. I checked his eyes: they were bright, clear and spotless. I checked his smile: it was pure, hiding no sarcasm or attack. It was his usual, gentle smile.

'What's up?' I asked, trying to hide the hate mail from that morning behind me, away from his eyes. He was obviously oblivious of my rumour and situation.

'I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I didn't make it last Monday. I haven't been at school for a week, you know? Because I had to go to Chicago to see my grandma. Didn't anyone tell you?' I shook my head. 'Oh. I asked people to tell you but-'

'How's your grandma? I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from me.

'Ah- she's fine. She's nearly a hundred and she's practically begging the cancer to just hurry up and kill her. God, what's up with me and my grandparents?' He shook his head with a weak laugh, and then focused his eyes back onto me.

'So, are we still going to chill after school?'

'Dude, it's study session,' I corrected with a smirk, 'not chillin' after school.'

He laughed, then suddenly there was a call from behind him. A sharp, harsh voice, but blunt enough so that Stan didn't notice the edge in it. It came from Clyde Donovan.

My heart instantly sunk. Even if Stan was so enthusiastic now, if he heard the rumours about me no doubt would he be disgusted. He would probably never want to do any study sessions ever again- furthermore, be my friend, ever again.

I glanced at Clyde whispering something into Stan's ear, Stan's expression turning blank and being dipped in confusion and shock, then turned my back on them and walked away with heavy shoulders.

.

I stayed in the library that day, not going to meet Stan after practice. I was positive that he wouldn't want to be with me any more, so I didn't expect anything. But I guess with the fact that I stayed at school until five o'clock showed that there was still an expectation hiding inside me.

"_Hey, where are you?"_

I jumped when I received that text message from Stan at five o'clock. My heart was still beating as I typed in a response.

"_At the library."_

My heart continued to race as I waited for a response, but nothing came. Of course… I thought, and picked up my bag to leave. My chest felt cold. The feeling of rejection is always cold…

But the second I opened the door, my nose crashed into a firm chest and the familiar smell of soap and sweat entered my nostrils.

'Hey,' it said with a gentle voice. My heart jumped again, and I looked up to find Stan looking down at me with a soft smile. 'I thought you were going to be waiting for me at the exit like always so I got confused.'

'Uh-huh…' _I_ was the confused one.

I followed him silently with a dazed face asking myself the same questions over and over again. Did he know about the rumour? Didn't Clyde tell him? If so why was he still with me? The questions ate me as I sat across him on his bedroom floor. But I couldn't ask him. If he didn't know, then I wanted to keep it that way.

We silently worked and I felt Stan's curious eyes wonder up to my face a few times. It wasn't common that I was this quiet. We could hear the time tick awkwardly around us making Stan shift uncomfortably a few times and make my mouth shake in the urge to ask him all the questions.

I accidently let out a deep sigh and dug my hand into my hair, grasping some strands frustratingly. I froze when I noticed Stan's calm eyes looking at me with a gentle frown; I was captured in his serious expression.

'Is it getting to you that much?' He muttered after averting his eyes and sighing.

'What- what do you mean?'

He glanced up again and met my eyes, his frown now digging into his lips.

'The rumour.'

I jumped.

'That stupid rumour Clyde told me today, that you raped Bebe? Is it getting to you that much?'

I was lost for meaningful words.

'So, you knew?'

'Well, yeah,' he said almost sarcastically. I forgot to blink, my mouth hanging open, lost in his words.

'So, you knew- and you still wanted to do this study session with me?'

He looked at me wide-eyed, disbelievingly.

'Did you seriously think that I would believe that shit?'

There was a sharp sound inside my head like a _CRACK_, the sound of all the hate mail, the glares, the abuses, breaking and disappearing from my memory and what mattered to me. It was the sound of me hitting realisation.

'Thanks,' I said with a small smile tinting my lips, 'you don't know how much that means to me.'

He blinked at me once, the accusing frown fading into a frown of confusion.

'Wait, you seriously thought that I believed that?'

I chuckled, warmth filling my stomach and my chest. He leaned into me, searching my laughing face, amusement mixing with his confusion.

'Dude, I mean, no offense because she's your ex-girlfriend and all but, Bebe's a complete skank. I mean, she's a slut, and you're one of the most innocent people I've ever known. After Pip.'

I laughed. 'After Pip? How about Butters?' I joked.

'Dude, Butters is one of the least-innocent person I've ever known. After Kenny.'

I grunted. It has been a long time since I heard Kenny's name. Probably since autumn, more than seven months ago. Whether I've been thinking of him, was a different story though.

'But dude, seriously.' Stan continued, leaning back and placing himself next to me. 'Who would even believe that rumour except for Clyde?'

A weak chuckle escaped my mouth. Oh, you have no idea Stan. You have no idea.

But even if all the school was against me, it didn't seem like such a matter anymore. Stan believed me. That was more than I could've wanted.

I let my hand fall to the side where Stan rested his. No matter how gay it must have seemed, I didn't care. His warmth and kindness was sinking into my hand, and I wanted him to know how grateful I was for it.

'Stan,' I said. He looked into my eyes confusingly and I smiled. 'Thanks.'

His whole face burned up as he raised his lips into a playful smirk.

'Dude, stop it, you're making me blush.' He laughed, still with pink cheeks. I felt myself beginning to blush as well, and for a second I wished I could draw into that gap and press my lips against his.

But at that second, Stan's bedroom door opened up, revealing silky black hair and warm chocolate eyes. Her eyes wondered down on us and I quickly drew my hand back.

'Hi Kyle!' Wendy Testaburger said brightly, a smile quickly rushing to her lips. 'What are you doing here?'

'Nothing-' I stood up, 'just about to leave actually.'

'Well, that's a shame.' She eyed me curiously, but her words were polite as I made my way past her.

'See you Stan, Wendy.' I said and closed the door behind me. But as I made my way to the front door, light footsteps rushed behind me and a gentle hand pulled me back, making me meet eyes with chocolate.

'Kyle, about that rumour…' she began carefully, 'I believe you too. Despite Bebe being my best friend and all, I can't believe that you'd do something so terrible.'

She smiled, and rushed back up to Stan's room, leaving rays of sunshine warming my chest. I couldn't believe that I even thought about kissing such a nice girl's boyfriend a minute earlier.

I knew that tomorrow would be the same old, hate mail, abuse, glare day again. But to even think that there were two people that believed me- was nice.

Even if the whole world were against me, at least Stan would be there. It was a comforting thought. And it seemed enough for me at the time.

.

I chose to eat my lunch in the cafeteria the next day. Even if I couldn't eat at my usual table anymore, I didn't find it necessary to runaway and hide. I wasn't completely and utterly alone, even if I physically was.

'Kyle! Over here!'

The usual call made me turn and I saw Stan waving his hand at me with a bright smile. I smiled weakly and shrugged. Even if Stan welcomed me to the table, I knew that no one else would. And granting my expectations, Clyde glared at him and pulled him back down to his seat.

'He's not sitting with us,' he growled, making Stan gaze at him in confusion. I walked passed their table and sat down on a free one in the corner. I felt Stan eye me puzzlingly at my accustomed action.

'Why?' He asked Clyde, frowning.

'Dude, I told you why yesterday!'

'What, do you think I believe what Bebe told you?' His whole table froze, the cluttering and chattering instantly stopping. 'Wait, do you guys all believe that bullshit?' Stan's voice was lowering and I looked up at their table in curiosity. The others were still quiet, cat got their tongue, which made Stan shake his head. 'I can't believe you guys…'

He stood up aggressively, bagging his hands on the table. Now the whole cafeteria had turned silent to face him.

'I can't believe that all you guys would even think for a second that Kyle could do such a thing! You have known him since elementary, or even pre-school! You've known both Kyle _and_ Bebe for so long and you still believe that- Argh!' He dug his fingers into the bridge of his nose. As much as his defending was fluttering, his frustration and seriousness, no- full on anger took all the fuzziness out of it.

'Bebe's a complete bitch and a slut, and Kyle doesn't even look at porn! I mean, just think about it!' Oh God- I dug my face into my palms, wishing that he didn't declare my lack of interest for porn to the world, and then I heard Stan sigh deeply.

'I believe in Kyle one hundred percent. And if you still don't believe Kyle then you guys are pathetic, and with the way you are treating him, you disgust me.'

The words echoed in my ear, Stan's righteous and sincere words. And then there were some cluttering and I felt my table shake, and when I looked up, I found Stan sitting across from me on my table. I gaped at him, at his strength and confidence, and his kindness. He looked back at me and smiled slightly embarrassingly, making a disbelieving chuckle leak out of my mouth. This guy…

Then there was another shake, and I looked away from Stan with a frown to find Kevin Stoley sitting next to him. 'I saw Bebe sucking off David Shannon behind the school once. I think I threw up afterwards.' He said with a blue face.

'There's no doubt she's a slut.' I heard a monotonous voice and found Craig Tucker sitting next to me, followed by Token Black with a sad smile coating his chocolate lips.

'Sorry we didn't believe you Kyle.'

Within a minute, Clyde's whole table had migrated onto mine, leaving the brunet alone on the other, gaping with shock at my lively table. It almost made me fell sorry for him. But when I looked up and saw Stan grinning at me, I couldn't have cared less.

'Told you so.' He mouthed, and it broke a smile on my lips.

I was surrounded by laughter, by the bright voices of my friends. People from other tables even got up to apologise to me, patting me on the back, a few girls sobbing their apologies. I wasn't alone.

My eyes drifted around, but I didn't find him anywhere, so I sighed in relief. Even without Eric, even with my trust and love for my best friend gone, I wasn't alone…

That is how I got out of that short instance of experiencing hell at school. But I learnt something from that. Through the violence, glaring, whispering and ignoring, I learnt that people were always looking for excuses to hurt others.

.

I opened my locker and automatically tensed, getting ready for hate mail to start falling out. But to my pleasant surprise, there was nothing. The scene of everyone coming to my table flashed in my mind, the smile and kind words of Stan, and my chest filled with unexplainable happiness.

'What are you smiling at?'

My heart flinched at the sharp voice of Clyde Donovan. Yes, I hadn't forgotten about him; but he was repressed from my thoughts. Sighing, I dragged my bag tiredly out of my locker and shut it close before turning to face him.

'What do you want, Clyde?' I asked as monotonously as I could. I was sick with having enemies at that point, and after experiencing such support from everyone, I didn't think that I even deserved it. But my neutral voice somehow pissed him off, if he wasn't already. His cold eyes made me cringe.

'Come with me Kyle.'

I glared at those words. How many times have I heard them come out of another mouth and it ending up being a pleasant journey?

'No.' This was Clyde, not Eric. He was glaring fucking murder at me, god knows what he wanted to do, and I had no reason to go anywhere with him.

'What? Are you scared Kyle?'

My tired eyes suddenly sharpened at what he said. Those three words- those three fucking words-

'I'm not fucking scared of you.' I spat and took a step towards him as he smirked and led the way. I measured him as I followed his back. He was tall, but not as much as Stan or Eric, he was built though, but… I glanced at his fist clenched beside him. It looked small, much smaller than the ones I had been taking in the gut by a certain someone. Yeah, I could take one of those…

But my heart jolted when I saw where he was taking me, and I tensed before following him inside the bathroom on the forth floor. God, couldn't he be more original?

'The forth floor bathroom? Really, Clyde?' My sarcastic voice didn't seem as provocative under my nervous laugh as the door closed behind me.

'I thought it would be more quiet here,' he said coolly. Yeah, no shit Sherlock, forth floor was always fucking quiet.

The cold tiles sucked in my breath and seemed to make my heartbeat echo around me. The silence was uncomfortable, much more than his mucho mouth blubbering out stupid words.

'What do you want? Don't you have to go to your football training or whatever you do to stop your brain from the little functioning it does?' I knew it wasn't that smart to provoke him, but I couldn't help it. He was an arrogant dickhead.

'You're such a fucking arrogant piece of shit, you know that?' Clyde hissed.

'What the hell are you talking about-' but before I could finish my question, I was swang around by my shirt and shoved into the bathroom wall. Why do people keep on doing that?

'You know exactly what I'm talking about,' blind eyes glared into me, warm breath spitting out cold words. 'You might be able to manipulate Stan and everyone else into believing that you're an innocent little angel, but I know better. I don't believe you.'

'Angel? Clyde, what the fuck are you talking about? Dude, let go of me!' His grip around my shirt was tightening, and I felt at any second that hand would shoot to my neck and squeeze the life out of me.

'I don't know what you told Stan, but the way you try to victimise yourself and make friends is disgusting!'

'Clyde, Clyde! I don't know what the fuck you're talking about! I didn't do anything! Believe me!'

'I said I'm not going to believe you! You fucking liar!' His hand let go of my shirt, just to grasp my jaw and make me stare into his burning eyes. They were quietly simmering rage. 'And just as I thought you couldn't go any lower…'

'I told you- I didn't do anything to Bebe-'

He ground my head deeper into the wall for that. Fuck- I was making him angrier by the minute-

'Then why was it that she refused me! Saying that she didn't feel ready after such an experience, huh? After being raped by you!'

That was probably a game she played to avoid having sex with you because you weren't her type mucho boy- I gritted my teeth in pain and kept that comment deep in my throat. 'I didn't do anything…' I tried to squeeze out, but it was clear that he couldn't hear my voice.

'Do you even know what you did to her?'

My body instantly froze. I felt a cold hand slide against my waist.

'Could you even imagine what it would feel like?'

Clyde's cool voice was distant and the only thing I could focus on was the hand sliding up my top.

'Clyde… stop…' My whisper shook as I felt the fingers reach my chest. I let out a loud yelp of pain as the fingers twisted my nipple.

'Could you imagine her pain?'

I began to thrash my legs as the twisting grew more aggressive, but suddenly, I had no idea where my limbs were. All I could feel were _his_ hands and _his_ legs dig into me.

'Clyde, what the fuck are you doing!' I finally shouted as loud as I could.

'Teaching you a lesson.' The answer came with his hand sliding out of my shirt, only to rip the front open. The buttons clattered onto the tiled ground, the air licked my bare chest. Not a single word slipped out of my mouth, only an empty breath.

_Fuck… He's going to fucking rape me-_

The second that thought entered my brain, the bathroom door slammed open, making us both turn to instant stone.

'What the fuck are you doing?' A dark voice said. I looked to the side with a twirling vision and saw Eric standing there, his sharp smile coating his lips. My eyes fell wide open.

'Cartman,' Clyde said with a click of the tongue. Without another word, he flung his hand off of my jaw and began to walk straight out of the bathroom, before Eric grasped his arm and threatened deep into his ear.

'Don't you ever come up here, and don't you ever touch him again…'

The usual best friend act of his, I thought as I rubbed my sore jaw. But that action instantly stopped when I accidently met eyes with Eric.

'What did he do to you?' He said, eyeing my naked chest.

I glared at him and grasped the front of my shirt shut. I didn't like the way his eyes caressed my bare skin. Despite the fact that his intrusion practically saved me, I walked straight past him without a word of appreciation or even another glimpse.

I didn't like his stare, his voice, his smile as he watched me squirm under someone, powerless.

I didn't like the longing, the passion or the lust that I unconsciously detected from his simmering gaze.

I didn't like that new glint in his eyes.

.

A couple of weeks past and the first year of my high school life were coming to an end. My birthday was uneventful, my highlight being the photo frame Stan gave me.

'You know that picture of the four of us in your room? The one in the broken frame leaning against the wall?' He had said as I opened the present. It was one of the best birthday presents I've ever got.

I tried to stay out of Clyde's way as much as possible after that happening in the forth floor bathroom and thankfully, he stayed out of my way too. Maybe Eric's small threat had something to do with it, or maybe it was just the fact that he was seen ripping my shirt off. I mean, that's a pretty gay thing to do.

But Eric, now he was someone who wouldn't stay away from me, as much as I tried to stay away from him. My confusion towards him grew everyday. One second he would be "accidently" hitting me in the shin or tackling me to the ground in PE, pulling my hair and squeezing my stomach until it bruised behind the school the next and then after that, silently watching me for hours on end from across the school library on a Monday afternoon.

But in reality, after the truth about me had spread out, life had returned almost completely to its previous state.

There was one thing that I changed after the incident with Bebe and Clyde though. It was my own small punishment for myself. No. The truth is, I think I was just scared.

After making sure that everyone had left the change room for PE, I silently slid in. It made me late to nearly every PE class but that didn't matter. It was the last class of the year anyway. And at least I had no risk of being caught looking at Stan's naked body. How that whole thing began.

And just as much, or even better, I didn't need to hide the big bruises on my body as I changed. No one to ask me how they came or where they came from, even though that happened much less than you would think. But there were two pairs of eyes that swam through my body. One pair was nervous and weak, blue eyes dipped in guilt that belonged to Butters. But he didn't say anything. The second pair of eyes caressed my bruises with amusement, satisfaction, and almost yearning. I felt the smoky irises move towards me when no one was looking and observed the pain he had painted onto me. Yes. At least I didn't have to go through that any more.

He told me once as he looked at the bruise he punched into my stomach when he was pretending to be my friend again, '_It looks painful'_. But as he traced the painful ink on my skin gently and said those soft words, deep down I knew what he meant. _'It looks beautiful.'_

I pulled my shirt off my head and observed my torso. Mostly white. I gently slid my finger over a few small bruises tinting my stomach and shoulder, but nothing major.

There was a sound of a ball being hit by a bat in the distance. A long hit into the sky. I had to hurry; they had already begun the class. I unbuttoned my jeans when the change room door suddenly flung open with a _crash_. My body jumped, then froze and I felt my heart turn to ice. I gaped at the door to find Eric walking straight past me and into the shower room set in the corner.

'God, haven't you got ready yet? Class has already started Kyle,' he said it without interest, barely noticing my existence.

I sighed with relief and released the tension in my shoulders. I pulled the zipper of my jeans down, before his voice suddenly shot through the small door.

'I need a little help in here!' The sudden call made me freeze and I stared at the door where the chocked shout came from. 'Hurry!'

My legs automatically moved in response to the panicked voice and I barged into the shower room. If I had thought a little I would have noticed. Why would Eric go into the shower in the middle of class? Why would he need help in there? But I just didn't think.

'Are you okay-'

My words died under the sound of a door closing behind me. I couldn't move my body; my brain wasn't functioning for that one second.

'Hey,' Eric said, a sneer etching deep into his face, and there was something else there, too.

I gulped, then asked, calmly, 'what did you do that for?'

'Do what?' He asked with a sudden innocent face that provoked my defensive anger and turned my eyes into slits.

'Move.' I ordered, casting my hand to the side. He didn't respond. 'I said move!'

I stumped up to him with aggressive footsteps and pushed at his side to move him out of the way. The world shook, and the next second when the world turned still, I noticed that I had fell to the freezing floor and was leaning against a warm frame. I tilted my head back to see Eric securing me tight in his arms from behind.

'What are you doing?' The question was quiet, asked with a voice desperate to keep calm. The familiar burning sensation returned to my mouth along with the feeling of something hot and firm worming against my tongue. 'Let me go Eric,' I hissed. His smile only grew.

'But why, Kahl?'

I grit my teeth in distaste. He couldn't be serious trapping me against his body and acting so innocent. I wiggled in his grip that only began to tighten with my struggles. 'Fuck! What do you want? Let me go!' I remembered the kiss, his lips, his tongue, caressing mine; they all flashed in my mind like ugly sparks. I was desperate to get rid of those thoughts.

'Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!' If I knew what was coming, I probably would've tried harder. Tried until my arms would have fallen out of their sockets. But I didn't. I simply thrust and relied on my yells. But the rest of my words were silenced by a thick hand that pressed onto my mouth with a soft voice soothing me from behind.

'Shh… Kahl. We're just gonna have some fun.'

My body was completely trapped with panic and anger. The only thing my hands smacked were air, the only things my feet kicked were tiles and the desperate scream that I released with clenched eyes was drained into the hand on my lips. I felt sweat trickling down my bare torso, but then I felt another thing and I shot my eyes open and I instantly froze. Sudden silence.

Something rough slid along my hips, tracing the line of my loose jeans, and then the elastic of my underwear. I was frozen, but inside I began to boil. My heart quickened and my breath became more rapid. What was he doing?

Eric's finger traced to the centre in line with my navel, then stopped on top of my released jeans.

What was he doing? No. No, no, no, no, _NO_!

I kicked my legs and pushed away as hard as I could, desperate to get out of what was going to happen. But Eric wouldn't budge. His rough fingers made their way under the elastic and past my hips. I was screeching into his palm.

I heard Eric tell me to calm down somewhere in the distance but I wasn't listening. Everything was burning, everything was rotting. The world shook around me, tears began to fill my eyes, but that was the least of my concerns. My ass, my thighs suddenly felt cold as I was sitting on the icy floor with bare skin. I screamed even louder, kicked and thrashed even harder when I felt something grasp my cock. The hand stroked the skin and tried to pump, but quickly lost rhythm under my immense struggling for freedom. Tears finally dropped from my eyes and ran down the hand around my mouth as I pled behind Eric's hand for help. I heard him grind his teeth behind me in frustration as I squirmed for my life. Until-

'Kyle?'

Both of us instantly froze. Through the smoked-glass window of the shower door we could see a tall shadow walk past as he quietly called my name. The call from the change room was a soft, careful voice. More tears fell from my eyes as my whole heart lifted.

_Stan… _I murmured from my unfree mouth. He was clearly looking for me. Stan, I'm right here! Help! Eric's fucking insane and he's going to bash me, rape me, kill me! _HELP!_

I stopped dead. My heart instantly sank to my stomach that felt like the pits of the black ocean.

I looked down at myself. My jeans scrunched down to my knees, Eric's firm hand clenching my semi-erect cock, tears streaming down my cheeks and falling onto my naked chest… Disgusting.

Satisfied with my quietened state, Eric's hand slowly left my mouth, and still I said nothing. Our legs untangled themselves and I was set free, yet I moved nothing. My body was limp, my mind, my voice was limp as I stared at Stan's shadow on the smoky window.

Eric's hand slowly began to pump, more fluidly and to rhythm without disturbance this time. And still, I said and moved nothing, even the tears betrayed me as they dried before they could leave my eyes.

'_Ah-'_

'Hey Stan. Have you found Kyle yet?' Butters's voice entered the room on the other side of the door.

'No.' Stan let out a small sigh. 'I can't find Cartman either.'

With that one name I could almost feel Butters freeze on the other side. He knew what was going on, although he had no idea. He probably thought that I was being mugged at the side of the school, being punched or kicked around. Ha, ha, ha…

The fisting became faster and stronger. My frozen body suddenly began to burn and I felt all my blood rush to my crotch. My dick was responding to Eric along with my breath, my sweat, my temperature, all harmonising together with Eric's motion.

'_Ngh- ah…'_

Only the disgusting acid of humiliation twirling around in the depths of my stomach didn't match the unforgiveable pleasure. What do you call that burning darkness that crept before your eyes as you fell into despair? How could you describe it? It is difficult. It doesn't have a name.

All the senses that were lost while the only thing I could feel was the pumping of my cock finally returned when I released into Eric's hand. The coldness that instantly followed attacked my body, and then the extreme exhaustion came before reality hit me.

My shoulders began to shake along with my lips and then my hands. I think Eric said something as he slid onto his feet, but I couldn't listen. The only thing I could hear were his lips curling up into his thin smile.

'You liked that didn't you, Kyle?'

My body froze; I heard my breath being sucked out of me. Eric snickered at my response.

'It's a late birthday present.'

He left straight after that, returned to class like nothing had happened. How could he? How? After-

I crawled onto my feet and wobbled a few steps forward until my hands felt a tiled wall. I swam my hands through the coldness until I found what I wanted, grasped tightly, and turned with all my might.

Cold rain, like daggers, hit my back. It was painful at first but soon I turned numb. My clothes sucked up all the water and weighed me down until I was kneeling onto the tiled floor. It was so cold… then why was I burning?

I glared my eyes and grasped my cock, stroking myself, then began pumping furiously. The sensation was still there, I had to get it off. Get rid of the feelings of Eric. Replace it, redo it- get rid of it all! But with my aggressive masturbation, my body didn't respond. My exhausted hands dropped to the watered floor and I simply felt the rain hit my back. And as it did, I wished for the numbness to sink into my back, through my muscle and bone, and reach my heart deep inside.


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N- Hello! I know everyone hates OCs, but please bear with me for one chapter. Coz I love him. **

* * *

'_A nameless me, a nameless you_

_Without the ability to become anyone, we were able to pass by each other, _

_In this town where we drifted to after being torn and worn out._

_To call that a meeting, it was too much of a fleeting moment,_

_But can you give a name, to this bruised up and scarred lifestyle?'_

_-amazarashi, "Namonaki Hito"_

_Chapter Six: Blue Summer_

The year ended. The summer holidays began the day after I received my first hand-job from somebody else- against my will.

No. No- that couldn't have happened…

I woke up with a fever the next day. It was definitely from the long ice-cold shower I gave myself after that incident, and then walking home without drying myself. Everything hurt- my head was splitting and my body was boiling and felt like it was tearing apart. I stayed under my covers and slept through most of the day without eating anything. It was good. I didn't want to eat anyway.

I almost got confused with what was real and what was a dream. Maybe that whole thing from yesterday was just my own head screwing with myself. I was sleeping enough, having enough dreams to get confused. Even if that meant that I was having sick fantasies about Eric giving me hand-jobs; that was still much better than having him really give me one.

But when I received a single text from Stan later that day, I couldn't deny it anymore. When I opened it up with a slight smile, or the tension loosening from my face at least, and read the message.

'_Hey, why didn't you come to PE yesterday?' _

The words sunk in slowly.

…Why didn't I go to PE yesterday?

_Thick breaths. Muffled voices. Restrained body. Sickening pleasure…_

'_You liked that didn't you, Kyle?'_

I covered my ears, desperate to get rid of that sickening voice, and dug myself deep into the covers of my bed, screaming a silenced scream into the mattress.

The worst thing was, I could've stopped it. I could've not rushed into the shower when I heard Eric's voice, I could've struggled harder against him, I could've…

I could've called Stan for help when I had the chance…

It was my fault- I only had myself to blame.

I must've fallen asleep like that, because the next time I woke up, my window was dark. I felt cold and empty, my wet face numb, covered in the saliva from screaming into my sheets and tears of rage from painful hatred.

'Bubbe?' There was a soft knock on the door, which made me twitch. 'Bubbe, I brought you some dinner.' She opened the door, letting light into my dark room.

'Ma, I can't eat right now. I'll throw everything up.'

'Well, even if you do, if it gives you a little nutrition, then it will be worth it.'

I tensed and gritted my teeth, trying my hardest not to cry. Her kindness seemed so brutal to me. I wanted to tell her everything, all my pain, but I couldn't. There was absolutely no way I could tell anyone something so humiliating and disgusting. And without knowing how disgusting I was, she was kindly bringing me dinner. It hurt.

'I'll just put it here, Kyle. Hope you get better before we leave.'

Oh yeah- I thought. We were leaving in a few days to go to Canada, like we always did. It was a family tradition we adopted a few years ago that every summer holidays we would go to Canada and see Ike's biological parents. We all used to hate them, but now they were like family.

I tried to eat the dinner my mum brought me after it turned completely cold. Each mouthful was like thick chunks of acid burning my throat. I ended up throwing everything up in the bathroom. My hands were shaking as I leaned over the toilet and the vibration was reaching every single part of my body, making my brain ring.

I felt so weak.

And that was just one fucking hand-job. You've masturbated before, just think of it like that, except for someone else giving it to you-

I wanted to scream again.

I probably fell asleep in the bathroom since I have no memory of going back to my room. It felt like I had slept through a few days because the next time I was fully conscious, was when I was loading my stuff into the car, ready for our long ride to Canada.

'I'm impressed Kyle, you haven't said one complaint this year.'

'Huh?'

I looked at my mum as if I had just been woken up from a daydream.

'You normally complain, complain and complain about driving to Ottawa because it take so long. You haven't said a word about it yet. You must be maturing.'

Maturing? I stared blankly at her back as she continued to pack the car.

Maturing? No. I just hadn't been thinking about it. But now that I did think about it, it didn't seem as much as a horrible event as it did all the other years. In fact, I couldn't wait to get in the car and leave this fucking town for the summer. I wanted to feel the merciless wind of the highway hit my face, blasting away all the thoughts out of my head as I listened to my music.

Everyone said that my music taste sucked balls. I couldn't blame them. I listened to classical music, traditional pop, jazz, yeah, and rock. It was a music taste I developed when I was about fourteen. I only knew two other people who actually liked the music I liked. And they sung it, all the time.

I can still hear their voices in my head today.

I was suddenly brought back to reality out of my calm state very unpleasantly when the car took a fierce turn and twisted my stomach along the way. We had reached the roundabout in Lakewood, and as we made the turn to change from route 285 to route 470, as I watched my world spin, I could only focus on the 285 ahead, as if something was calling me. There was a sudden urge inside me to stop, and continue going straight ahead on route 285. To follow that urge and disappear into the horizon until my heart's content, until I reached that call. That is what I wanted.

.

We arrived at the Gintz's house (Ike's biological parents' house), what was like a week later. Their bright and friendly welcome felt so alien to me after being locked in a car for days. My mind had been shut off for so long, it blew my mind away when Elise squeezed me into a tight hug.

'Wow, Kyle! You have grown!' She told me after saying the same to Ike.

'Yeah, like, half an inch?' My sarcasm hardly held any of the energy it should have held.

'No, no! You have grown more than that!' She rushed over to get a tape measure and lined me up against the wall. 'One-hundred aaaand… One-hundred and seventy centimetres!'

I felt my heart jolt.

'Really?' My voice said brightly, and I was answered with a nod and a smile. 'Wow… I grew four centimetres since last year.' And it only felt like I was shrinking, but I was beginning to grow. It was a pleasant betray of expectations, but maybe that was it; that explained that weird emptiness inside me.

My body was growing, but my heart wasn't catching up fast enough with its growth. Inside me, I thought, that there will be this petty little organ, pumping desperately in hollow darkness. I wished for my heart to hurry up and catch up to the growth of my height.

I mean, four centimetres, wow. I reached the one-seventy mark.

The Gintz's hadn't changed at all. Their quiet neighbourhood and typical Ottawa style houses made with clean brick and framed with rich green were nice, really. I liked it there. It made me believe that itchy disgust for myself could be forgotten even if it was for just an instant.

'Hey, Kyle honey,' Elise called a few days later, 'could you give this to the Brasos for me? To the house with the cherry blossom tree?'

She handed me an empty plate wrapped in a clean tea towel.

The Brasos' house was easy to spot, just around the corner. I knocked on the door a little nervously, not extremely in the mood to be meeting strangers. When the door opened, I noticed the creaking of the door more than I should have, and when I saw the answerer, my smiling face tensed in confusion. I was expecting some middle-aged woman, or a man to answer the door. Not a teenage boy with scruffy hair, sharp eyes with thick eyebrows and eyelashes to match.

'Hi. Are you, err, Mr. Braso?' I must've sounded stupid. The taller boy didn't look like the Mr. type.

'No' was his answer, and immediately, I noticed the accent in that single word. I nodded awkwardly with a small apology and turned to leave, but just as I did, firm fingers wrapped around my arm and I was facing him again.

'I am not Mr. Braso,' he repeated, 'but this is the Brasos' house.'

He led me into the humble home with slight forcefulness, but with a polite silence. The boy confused me. Was he rude, or friendly? If he wasn't a Braso, what was he doing here letting me inside?

'Actually, I just came to drop this off.' I indicated the plate in my hand, just remembering its existence. My heart was thumping quickly for some reason and the air was becoming thin. It was too much; I wanted to leave. He turned to face me, and suddenly, I noticed how clear his sharp eyes were. Deep, transparent green mixed with hazel. His long eyelashes blinked confusedly, and my face instantly lit out, noticing how intently I was staring at the boy.

The sun that lit through the skylights made the whole room light up, and suddenly it became so easy to breathe, even with a flushed face, the air that surrounded us was so soft and light. The urge to leave suddenly evaporated into the atmosphere around us. But I did leave, without a mere goodbye to the strange kid. It was strange. The warm sunlight that shone through the skylight didn't seem to be so nice outside the minute I left the house.

'Oh, thank you for that Kyle.' Elise welcomed me back as she ironed some shirts.

'The Brasos weren't there.' I said. 'But there was this guy-'

'Oh, you've already met him?'

I blinked. 'Yeah?'

'Sweet, isn't he? Quiet though. Can't blame him.'

I blinked again.

One thing I decided that I hated about summer that year was that darkness took too long to come. I lied on my guestroom bed for what seemed to be hours, but when I finally got up, the window was only beginning to turn red.

Quickly informing my brief leaving, I stepped outside under the sunset sky. There was nowhere I wanted to go, and the only thing I could do was to follow my instincts. So when I arrived at a creek, smelling the calming scent of clear water and rich trees, I couldn't help but feel disappointed in myself. Even in Ottawa, I had the same habits as to when I was in South Park.

With that bitter discontent for myself worming inside me, I turned to leave again, but a rough voice wrapped around me and made me turn back. I thought I was alone, but not quite.

'You!' He said. I saw scruffy brown hair and sharp eyes, and thought that the way he yelled was as forceful as how he let people into his house, but with that strange politeness. He was looking this way and there was no one else around, so it had to be me.

'What?' I tried to be as forceful as he was but instantly, I regretted saying that, because in response he began to walk towards me.

'You came to my- err, the Brasos' house, no?' His accent was still as thick as his eyebrows.

'Yeah.'

Silence followed. I wondered what he was trying to get out of that question.

'What is your name?' He finally asked. 'My name is Matthieu.'

'Kyle.' I said before thinking twice. But when I looked up at him, he was smiling, his green-hazel eyes melting into warmth. I didn't understand how one single word could make his fierce-looking feature melt into warmness, but it did. And I didn't like it; it made me blush.

'So, where are you from Kyle? I have not seen you around here.'

I cringed slightly, liking his polite silence better. 'I came from Colorado, USA.'

'Ah- I have a cousin in the United States.' He said it boringly for a boring statement. 'She hates it very much.'

A quick laughter blew out of me, like a sneeze, which made the boy's eyes turn towards me with amusement.

'Sorry, it's just- normally people wouldn't say that last bit.'

'What, that she hates America? She fucking hates America! She says she can't wait to go home.'

I chuckled again at the passion in his words. It was strange when he swore.

'So where are you from?' I asked, hoping that my immediate notice of his heavy accent wouldn't offend him.

'France.' He answered, and somehow, I wasn't surprised.

'I knew a guy from France…' When I realised, we were both sitting on the bank of the creek, staring into the same water flowing calmly and infinitely. 'So, why are you here? Are the Brasos relatives or something?'

'No. I am doing that, um…' he snapped his fingers as a ritual to make the desired words come out, and strangely, I felt immense empathy as I watched him struggle to express himself. 'Exchange- I am doing exchange,' he finally got out.

'Wow, so you're like, an exchange student? So, you're doing a home-stay at the Brasos?'

He nodded, looking blankly at the flowing creek. I didn't mind that he seemed so disinterested in my words, I actually found it relaxing and even amusing. I took that chance to look at him.

His thick eyebrows were furrowed down, but it was like that even as he smiled, so I thought it was natural. I moved down to his eyes, and the thick, long eyelashes that framed them beautifully. His eyes were sharp, leaf-green and bark-hazel, like a tree, staring into emptiness. My eyes moved further down, until I landed on his lips. They were thick, not like, me thick, but thicker than I thought. Everything about him seemed so sharp and angular, I thought his lips would be more thin and pointy. But they looked soft…

Suddenly, there was green and hazel, and I instantly froze. Those sharp eyes were staring into mine, barely an inch away. He blinked, and when he did, I could almost feel the wind from the movement against my hair, or maybe it was the soft summer breeze that past through us.

'I- should go now.' The words finally left my lips, as blankly as they sounded. Until he moved, I was sure I wouldn't be able to move myself. He made a noise of acceptance and moved away, letting me take a breath of relief.

What the hell was that? It was almost like I was… trapped in his beauty.

Once I felt it was safe to do so, I looked back, and now that I wasn't trapped in his face I was able to see how tall and angular he really was. Legs long, wrapped in jeans, his head coated in rough strands of scruffy brown hair rested on his long neck, the bones and muscles of his back stuck out under his khaki shirt. And lastly, I noticed a thin chain peeking from under his shirt around the back of his neck.

For a second, I remembered Stan's naked back that I couldn't tear my eyes off of, and blushed like no other.

It was that moment that I found out that I was actually gay. It wasn't just one single crush on Stan, but I had a general, sexual attraction towards men. And I couldn't help but find Matthieu, as he simply stood there, thin, yet masculine on the bank of the creek coated in sunset, extremely attractive.

.

When I turned the light off of my guest room ready for bed, I noticed my phone flashing for a new text. My heart fluttered slightly when I saw that it was from Stan, and strangely, I also felt a little guilty remembering my attraction for a guy that I just met. But I opened it quickly nonetheless.

"_Hey, dude. What's up? I'm at a party now."_

Party? Yay, my fucking favourite. But as sarcastically as I commented inside my head, I couldn't help but smile sincerely.

"_Oh yeah? Whose party?"_

"_Cartman's"_

My fluttered heart instantly stopped, my fingers froze, and I couldn't write a reply right away. I wasn't prepared to hear that name I had locked out of my head for days.

Oh yeah. It was his birthday a few days ago. No surprise he was having a party…

'_It's a late birthday present.'_

The deep voice echoed in my head before I could shut it off. Groaning quietly, I fell to my knees and dug my face into the bed, gritting my teeth, desperate to cut my mind off of that thin smile and burning smoky eyes.

"_Hey, can you talk?"_

I leaned up, panting slightly as Stan sent me another message. I didn't want to. Not now.

"_Sure."_

The phone rung almost instantly.

'Hey Kyle!' He was shouting, but it was still hard to understand him over the party.

'Hi Stan.'

'Huh? Wait a second, I'll go outside!'

A second later the loud, incomprehensible audio disappeared into a pleasant silence. I could almost hear the crickets singing in the distance through the speaker, the night must've been beautiful there.

'How's that? Better?'

'Totally.'

He fell into a nervous silence. He wanted to say something, I could tell. Even over the phone I could feel him biting on his tongue, rustling his hair and pacing around with rhythmic feet, and it made me inpatient, because I could also feel his grin.

'What is it?' I asked, smiling impatiently.

He chuckled, slightly embarrassed, yet the happiness dominated in his voice.

'I did it-' He said, his words sounding like they were flowing out of a smile.

'What? What did you do?'

'I did it- you know… with Wendy,'

My smile froze on my lips.

'Huh?'

He took that as a sign to continue.

'Today, we were hanging out at my house before the party. And we were talking and stuff, you know? We talked about you actually. She said that we're getting close, you know.' His excited voice turned a little soft for that sentence. I couldn't help but notice it. 'And then, yeah. So we had like, a couple of hours before the party and then, quite randomly really, she said that I didn't need to wait anymore. My parents were gone. She said that she was ready, so we just kinda… did it.'

'Oh…' I knew I had to say more. Congratulations? Good on you? That's awesome dude? What was natural?

'Yeah. Maybe you're a bit innocent for this Kyle.' He chuckled. 'I haven't told anyone else.'

Innocent? The word didn't seem right. No, it was wrong. Completely and utterly, wrong.

'Anyway, I should go back to the party. Wendy's being really clingy today, you know? It's kinda cute, actually.'

His words didn't reach me anymore. A long and piercing _beep beep beep_ was ringing through the speaker.

As uncomfortable and compressing as it felt, I remembered Eric's words, and he was wrong. I had never whacked off to the image of Stan. It was a crush, almost like idolising, not some physiological lust for him. But then- why did it hurt to so much to hear that from Stan? To hear how happy he was for having sex with someone else?

There were three strings in my head now, tangled up together furiously. One was a thin, burning smile, another was a slightly embarrassed, but happy voice, and the last, was an angular back, with masculine bones and elegant muscles toned underneath his shirt.

I wasn't innocent…

Slowly, I untangled that one string carefully from my mind. His thick eyebrows, long eyelashes, sharp eyes and his soft-looking lips that curled up into a warm smile that made his sharp eyes melt. I tried to focus on that one string, and cut off the other two that were messing up my mind.

That night, in the guest room bed, I masturbated to the image of a real person for the first time.

.

When I woke up the next day, I noticed that my mind had returned back to its blank, numb state again, but nobody seemed to notice; that was a relief. My parents both took the car to go look around like the tourists that they were. I said that my sickness felt like it was creeping back again, which was enough of an excuse to stay behind.

I noticed that I had nothing to do in that small neighbourhood of Ottawa. But that didn't matter. I would go walking, probably to that quiet creek. I would sit on the bank and feel the time pass silently, and when I would get up to leave, it would be time to leave Canada.

The park and the creek were as quiet as yesterday. In fact, the only thing different from yesterday was that there was yet no sunset. And yes. That meant that the boy was there too.

I felt my heart jolt when I saw his angular back sitting on the bank of the river, my face instantly heated up as I remembered what I did last night alone in bed. Almost like a reaction, I turned like a crooked robot to get the hell away from there.

'Hey! You!' But his voice stopped me again, as forceful as yesterday. 'Kyle!'

My head swung around in response to the call of my name before I could even think, and I instantly regretted it. He was smiling warmly.

'You remember my name?'

He smirked. His lips seemed used to it. I guessed he did that a lot.

'I doubt you have forgotten mine, also.'

I fidgeted slightly, and sighed.

'Matthieu.'

His smirk melted into a warm smile, and although I've been seeing him do that before, I noticed for the first time that his lips didn't seem to be very used to that.

'Come,' he said, taking me by the wrist and pulling me to the bank of the river. 'You wanted to be here, no?'

'Yes.' I said reluctantly. That was exactly where I wanted to be. But beside him? I didn't know about that.

I expected him to talk, make conversation like yesterday as politely forceful as he was. But to my pleasant surprise, we fell into an instant silence, calm, and beautifully harmonising with the subtle natural sounds that surrounded us. I felt the time pass.

'I like you,' he suddenly said, as the water began to turn bright orange. Time went by so quickly, but now it stopped as I looked at him. 'You know the value of silence.'

'I'm normally not this silent…' I said the absolute truth. 'Normally, people can't make me shut up.'

He laughed.

'I can see zat!' He said, the typical accent taking over as he laughed. But how could he know that? We only just met, and we haven't even talked to each other for hours. 'But that does not mean you don't know the value of silence,' he continued after his laughter died down.

The bright orange turned to a deep scarlet, and I used that as a watch to tell me that it was my time to leave.

'I should go now.'

He got up politely as I did. He didn't ask me if I would be back tomorrow; he probably already knew the answer.

He kissed me on each cheek, and granted, I found out how soft his lips actually were on my skin. And goddamn it, did it make me blush.

'That is how we salute where I come from.' He said with a smirk. I knew that. I also knew that guys didn't do it to each other very often.

He did it again the next day when we met as well, and the day after that, and the day after that. Still, all we did was sit and drench in each other's silence. And silently, I began to notice how mysterious that boy actually was, and the fact that I could afford to notice such a thing made me realise that my mind was coming out of its numb and blank state.

'How long have you been here?' I asked him when a week passed since our meeting.

'Nearly a month.'

'So, why did you come here? Doing an exchange, I mean.'

'It is not a very interesting story.' He said. I left it at that.

My phone had long since run out of battery, and I didn't bother to charge it. I didn't want my mind to return to South Park. I wanted it here in the green neighbourhood of Ottawa, with Matthieu. Even though our words were still very limited.

There were a few things I learnt though, while I was with him.

First, as his eyes looked though the flowing water of the creek, I could see that he was looking at something far away, so far, that it didn't even exist.

Second, as tall and fierce looking as he was, his movements were very delicate. He would slide his long fingers against his left ribs, and freeze his eyes wide open as if just noticing where he was and what he was doing.

Third, his hand would occasionally hover around towards mine, but would quickly retreat like a scared cat.

That you could learn so much with only silence: that is what I learnt over the weeks of his company.

'What do you see?'

The one thing I liked about him was that I could say such cheesy things and it wouldn't matter, because he said them too without even knowing.

He looked at me surprisingly when I asked that question, then returned his eyes back to the water as if trying to observe what he had been staring at for weeks.

'I see clear water flowing, on and on. Small stones at the bottom, rocking with the waves. Green leaves falling onto the surface and being taken away…' His eyes moved up. 'Deep, blue sky. Tall, white clouds… I see Summer.'

Slowly, his hand began to hover again towards mine, but quickly retreated., but not completely. My hand flew and caught his before it could get lost again.

'You can touch my hand, if you want to.' I told him firmly, looking into his surprised eyes. And then slowly, those hazel-greens began to relax, and our fingers entangled together. After a few moments of silence, our eyes wrapped around each other's again, and his lips curled up into a smile.

'I see clear cream, perfect white, with slight pink. Transparent emerald stones, carved not by hand, but with nature. And rich scarlet like Lycoris radiata… When I see you, I see autumn.'

When he finished, I realised that his fingers had moved from my skin, to my eyes and to my hair as he spoke. But strangely, I didn't blush to his words. His last sentence couldn't leave my head.

'Do many French people talk like you?' I asked when I was finally returned to the present.

'Not many.' He chuckled. 'At least, maybe not to the same gender.' His hand was on my cheek again. 'But you don't mind, no?'

I blinked.

'How do you know I'm gay?'

'Oh, you are?'

My face fumed. 'What do you mean by that!'

'No! Sorry, I'm sorry.' He cackled. 'It just, was not a problem for me if you were gay or not.'

I blinked again, turned around and took a few steps in a circle and faced him in confusion.

'You think I'm attractive?' I asked, voice low in disbelief.

He laughed again, but his words were calm. 'My friend, you are attractive, very, very much.'

His words seemed so foreign to me. Attractive? Me? The two words didn't seem to belong in the same sentence. But as he looked at me, I couldn't help but avert my eyes. His gaze told me that he couldn't be more sincere with his words.

'I think you're attractive too-' I mumbled. He grinned.

'I know.'

Goddamn it! I gritted my teeth as my face began to boil. For weeks we hardly exchanged any words and now we were telling each other how attractive the other was.

'What do you mean Lycoris radiata anyway? Like red spider lilies?'

He nodded amusingly. 'Also called "corpse flower", "ghost flower" and "hell flower".'

'Jeez. That's not as romantic as I thought.' I scoffed sarcastically, and he laughed.

'But it is the most beautiful flower of all the world.'

One can only take so much sweet words, especially if you haven't heard them before and thought that you never would. So with a burning blush and a pathetic pout attempting to hide the embarrassment, I left, not letting him kiss my cheeks in his usual salute.

'Come here again tonight!' He shouted.

'Why!' I yelled back.

'Just come! At midnight!'

'As if!'

I scoffed again and continued walking home. My parents would fucking kill me if they found out that I sneaked out in the middle of the night.

That is why I tried to be as quiet as I could as I left the house at eleven-forty at night.

And when I arrived at the creek, he was already there with his angular back lit up with the light of the moon. You couldn't see many stars in the sky there, not like South Park. They were all sucked up by the ground and became the lights of the city. It was such a shame.

'I knew you would come.' He smirked as I lined up beside him.

'Shut up.'

He chuckled and took out a bag, sliding out a long packet and a lighter.

'What's that?'

'Sparklers.' He stated, observing the packet with his furrowed eyebrows. He didn't seem too familiar with them either.

He took out a thin wand and lit it as I watched him with round eyes. We both jerked in surprise as the wand suddenly popped into life, hundreds of little sparks shooting out through the end. The sparkles were lively, but they were gentle and fragile, soft like the seeds of a dandelion flying away. The subtle cry of the small firework sounded like chimes, a delicate sound of life.

It died, too quickly. But there were many more.

It felt like all the stars that were missing in the sky, were now right here in our hands, bursting into its fragile life, then dying into darkness, only too quickly.

'When are you going back to America?' He asked as we watched the last wand sparkle out its life.

I calmly watched the light and counted the days, until my eyes flew open in shock. I haven't even thought about leaving or counted the days until now.

'Tomorrow.' I said. The sparkles died.

We fell into silence brought to us by the darkness but it wasn't our usual comfortable silence. It was something heavier. With a deep sigh, Matthieu fell into the grass motionlessly, exposing himself to the night sky. I did the same beside him.

Slowly, I felt his hand reach mine. The connection made me tilt my head to see him, and I stopped breathing, noticing how close our faces were. I didn't even blink, scared that our eyelashes might clash if I did.

But before my eyes could water from dryness, Matthieu leaned up, and now his face was above mine. I felt his hand rest on my cheek, his thumb caressing my skin, and then he began to lean in, the warmth of his lips brushing the surface of my own.

'Stop-'

I looked to the side to avoid his gaze, red faced.

'Why?'

I sat up as my mind began to cool down, forcing him to do the same.

'I don't know. '

The crickets sung.

'Do you have someone?' He said slowly. 'Someone you love?'

I blushed again.

'There is… someone I like…'

'That's good.' I swung my head up in confusion, and found him smiling that soft smile. 'People who know the value of silence should have someone to treasure.'

'What do you mean?' I think I knew what he meant, but I didn't know how.

'Your emerald eyes, they are beautiful. They see far.' His hand rested on my cheek again. 'I just hope they don't have to see further than that. And having someone close to you to keep your eyes on, is good.'

Suddenly, I was back in reality again, leaving the small summer dream I was lost in for weeks. As I looked into Matthieu's hazel-green eyes, I returned back to South Park. I felt thick hands wrap around me, and inject sick pleasure straight into my veins that rushed through my body.

The sound of my own cough brought me back to the bank of the creek, and I was hugging myself. The knot that I had distracted myself from so well for the past couple of weeks was now tearing my mind.

'Disgusting…' My voice muttered and I felt my body shake, and at that second, warm hands wrapped around me.

'Now think of that person you care about…'

The person… my friend: kind, a little obtuse, but strong-hearted and with the most bright and wonderful smile. Stan…

It felt like my body was slowly being cleansed, the knots in my head being untangled, and it all came from that one warmth deep in my chest.

And I suddenly knew why I didn't want Matthieu to kiss me.

I had already betrayed someone else's feelings, while knowing how much it hurt to be betrayed. I never wanted to do that again. I didn't want to betray my own feelings for Stan, no matter how hopeless it was- No. It wasn't about hope, or being requited or anything. Stan, and my feelings for him, seemed to be the only pure and untouched thing inside me now. That is what I didn't want to betray.

When I opened my eyes I was strong enough to slowly lean away from Matthieu's arms.

'Thank you.' I said, and we fell into our usual silence.

Cross-legged, facing each other, I stared down at his hands resting on mine. There were only a couple hours left until sunrise, and suddenly, the time that seemed unlimited was ticking quickly in my head.

And suddenly, I felt so small. The boy across me who I only had a couple of conversations with, already knew so much of me. But I didn't know anything about him. How did he learn so much about me just through silence? How could he see and understand my pain without having me share it in words? The questions brought me into a subtle shake and I clenched his hands that seemed to be holding so much.

'Do you still want to know why I came here?'

The words were careful, and more determined than anything I've heard from his mouth. It made me fling my eyes up from our hands to face his, and just as carefully, I nodded. He did the same.

'As I told you, it is not a very interesting story. I came here because my grandmother died.' His hand moved from mine to the thin chain around his neck, and for the first time, he revealed it from under his shirt.

'Umm… so you're Christian?' I said stupidly, looking down at the small cross in his hand.

'No. Buddhist.'

I gaped at him, which he cackled at loudly. Well, that explained the Lycoris radiata reference.

'Not many people tink zat I am a Buddhist!' Matthieu continued to laugh, accent strongly showing in his words again. 'But no… Although I was Christian before, and I still believe in some aspect of Christianity, I changed.' He quietened down. 'This was my grandmother's. She gave it to me before she passed away.'

The chain went back around his neck, and the cross was hidden again.

'About a year ago, I was in love.' He began. 'I was a lover.'

And already his words were so heavy I wanted to make him stop. But I listened.

'The man was forty-two, he had a wife and two children. I was sixteen. We met at the hospital when my grandmother fell from a heart attack. I was shocked, distraught even, because it had happened during my boxing competition, when I was bashed into the ground. I felt guilt. I thought my grandmother fell from the shock of watching me get punched over and over again. I shouldn't have made her come.

'As I waited in the corridor of the hospital for news of my grandmother's condition, he came up to me, asked me if I was okay. I couldn't answer, so he helped me to the bathroom. After I washed my face, he kissed me. I was shocked, so when he asked me if I felt better, all I could do was nod. He was pleased with my answer, and took me into a cubicle.'

He fell silent for a second and I couldn't blink.

'So you met this old guy for the first time, and he fucked you?' I knew I was being extremely insensitive, but I couldn't control myself.

'Yes. If I think now, it was probably not his first time he had done it. He knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.'

'What did he say to you?'

His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

'"C'est pas ta faute."'

His lips curled into a slight smile, and it made me shiver.

'It continued after that. My grandmother had become very weak, and she couldn't leave the hospital. And I would have done anything to hear those words again. At first it was just at the hospital and then it was at hotels and in his car. I had heard about his family, but I didn't care. As time past, I began to love him. And he said he loved me. But after a while, thing's changed…'

He lifted up his shirt, and showed me why he had the habit of caressing his left ribs all the time. If I was shocked before, now I was in complete horror that sucked the breath out of me.

'The first time he did it was when we were at the hotel. We had finished, and he was smoking a cigarette. He wasn't angry that day; he was just bored. He came on top of me and trapped my hands and covered my face with a pillow, but I didn't think much of it. Not until I was screaming into the pillow in agonie.'

His torso was full of them, a dozen, or even more. Perfect round marks that turned his skin to ash, finally healing up. The simmering sound of burning skin could be heard just by looking at the painful round marks of the cigarette burns.

'He told me that he was punishing me, cleansing me. And listening to him had become an instinct of mine.' He pulled his shirt back over the wounds. 'But finally, I could not take it any more. I was on the verge of breaking. Or maybe I already was.'

'What did you do?' My voice was quiet, careful not to break him.

'I confessed.'

It was such a simple answer. An answer I could have never come up with.

'I drank a lot of alcohol at once and was sent into hospital. It was my father that found me. I was lucky that he was home for once.'

A smile broke on his face. And under the moonlight I noticed, that his eyes were glistening.

'When I woke up on the hospital bed, it was so bright. I was surrounded in light. And there, sitting beside me in that white room, was my grandmother. She smiled so gently, and naturally, I told her everything. I couldn't stop crying as I did, as I confessed my sins. And when I finished, she was crying as well. Her smile was still there, but her eyes were crying for me.'

His voice cracked. And now there were tears filling up in his green-hazel eyes.

'And then she said it-' His tear-filled voice went out of control, tears finally breaking away and falling down his cheeks. I wrapped my arms around him, as tightly as I could, desperate to secure him, to stop him from shuttering to pieces.

'"C'est pas ta faute", "C'est pas ta faute", "C'est pas ta faute", "C'est pas ta faute"' He said it over and over into my shoulder, words muffled, but nothing could have been more clear.

I held him until he finally began to calm down. I wouldn't have guessed, that such a silent person could scream out his emotions so deeply, straight into your heart.

'I left the hospital a couple of days later. The doctors seemed to be more concerned about my cigarette burns than my alcohol consumption. But my grandmother, she never left the hospital. She gave me this cross that she always wore. That was the last thing she did.

'A few days after she passed away, I went to his house. I thought that I had to confess to his family my sin, and his sin together. I thought that they had to know what sort of a person they were living with.'

'But you didn't…' I murmured the heavy words that lurked around him that made his lips tense.

'When I went there, I heard laughter. I heard happiness. I looked through one of the windows and saw the perfect image of a happy family. Ignorant as they were, they were perfect. It was an image I always wanted, but never had. How could I have taken away from them such a thing?'

…But now that monster was out there. You might have saved a perfect family, but god knows what he might be doing with that freedom, to kids like you. That is what you think. As you sit on the bank of the creek, that is what you think.

'But that was last summer.' He continued. 'A few months later, with the money that my grandmother left me, I searched for something, somewhere; I needed change. And I found a student exchange company, and I applied.'

'Why did you pick Canada?'

It was a light question, but the drop of his eyes told me that it wasn't a light answer.

'He was from Canada?'

'From Quebec. "Je me souviens"!' He mocked the province motto. But there was no humour there.

'But why did you come here? It doesn't make any sense! Why would you come here if you wanted change? Wouldn't you want to forget?'

'I didn't come here to forget…' he said quietly. 'I came here to be punished.'

…As you sit here beside the creek in completely silence, with only the time passing around you. You look for punishment.

'But that doesn't make sense! Why would you look for punishment? You don't deserve it! "C'est pas ta faute"! Even your grandma said it, right?' But the words he had said to me over and over again just a minute ago merely made him bat his eyes.

'Why are you crying?' He asked softly.

'Huh?'

'Why are you crying?'

'What? I'm not crying-' that was ridiculous. But he touched my cheek, and when he drew his hand back, his fingers were glistening. I stared at it, the power flowing out of me as I did.

'It's not your fault…' The words drew out of me in English. But now those didn't seem like the right words anymore. No matter how many times those words echoed in his head, he still sat there silently and looked for punishment.

But that was all wrong. It was wrong.

'Kyle?'

I lifted myself onto my knees and carefully, I cupped his cheeks, as gently as I could without breaking him.

'You don't have to be punished anymore…'

And just as gently, I kissed his forehead.

He looked at me with round eyes, and I stared deeply into those hazel-greens, searching for the light that had to be in there. So that he could see properly, past the darkness. So that he could hear the truth in my words.

'You are forgiven.'

The soft skin in my hands froze, but then slowly, it began to melt into a soft tremble. Silent tears fell down his cheeks. He dropped his head into my lap and screamed his cries through a blocked throat, clenching my shirt for dear life, melting, crying. I had never heard someone cry so loudly, so openly, and for so long.

And how one little phrase could sink into someone so deeply, was like a miracle.

When we came back to reality, the sky was dyeing into a slight purple. The sun was rising.

'At first, I thought I had come here to be punished,' Matthieu said as he watched the colour of the sky change, 'but maybe, I had come here to be forgiven.'

.

In summer, the sun always rises too early. My time with Matthieu was running out.

'When I first met you at your house, I didn't get how attractive you were.' I said, blubbering random thoughts that came to my head. 'But when I saw you for the second time, here, I noticed how beautiful you were.'

My face glowed red, but I didn't want to keep anything from him. I wanted to say everything while I could.

'I jacked off to the thought of you that night.'

'Really?' Matthieu chuckled amusingly, and that didn't help my embarrassment at all.

'Yeah.' I mumbled. And it was my first time too…

A gentle hand slid onto my jaw, and tilted my head so that lips could caress my cheek.

'I immediately noticed how beautiful _you_ were.' He said with a knowing grin. He leaned in and our foreheads met. 'I went to the Brasos' bathroom and jacked off the minute you left.'

I blinked at him as he continued to smirk. But then I noticed that that smirk was nothing but a playful smile.

Slowly, I laughed, we both did. Our voices were loud and clear, and most of all, bright. I could hear my own laughter bounce off the trees and the surface of the water and fly into the sun-rising sky, mixing with Matthieu's. I hadn't heard my own laughter so clearly in a long time.

'I haven't heard such laughter in a long time.'

My exact thoughts were voiced out. But it wasn't me.

I looked up and met Matthieu's eyes, and by the way they fell into soft warmth and looked deeply into mine, I realised that it was him who had said it.

'Me too.'

.

I managed to arrive back at the Gintz's before anyone woke up, although I didn't want to. I knew that I wouldn't be going back to that creek, and even if I did, the person that I went there for wouldn't be there anymore.

I would have gotten a few hours sleep if my heart weren't so full of emotions. But before I could even spin my head on properly, the sun was high up in the sky, my family was inside the car, and it was time to go.

Silently, I wondered if I would ever see that French boy again.

'Kyle!'

I swang my head around immediately at the sound of that familiar voice.

'Matthieu?'

There was a wide grin on his face as he finally reached me before I could get in the car.

'It was very difficult, but I managed to find one.'

'Find one what—' the second I said that, he shoved deep red into my face. 'What the-' I carefully took what he handed me into my hands. 'A flower?'

His grin widened as he watched me observe the single large flower in my hands.

He cupped my jaw and lifted my face up with his usual forcefulness and delicate gentleness so that I was now facing him. He kissed me on each cheek, and this time, he ended on my lips, full and contently. He smiled as he imprinted his hazel-greens into my icy-green ones he said that he thought were beautiful.

'Alléluia!'

He cheered loudly to me, clear voice echoing into the blue summer sky, and he left, leaving that one single word and that one red flower in my hand.

At the time, I had no idea why he had said that one last word. But now, I think I know.

I turned around with a red face, but strangely cleared and refreshed, and saw my parents gaping at me in shock.

'He's French.' Although he's a Buddhist… I shrugged, and hopped into the car.

'Ah! Careful with those Kyle!' My brother hissed as I took my spot next to him. 'Lycoris radiata are poisonous! Wait, how did that guy get them this time of year? And where?'

'Keep your pants on you smart ass' I said, and smiled at the beautiful flower in my hand. I had to do some research on red spider lilies when I got home. See when it's used, what meaning it has in the language of flowers, stuff like that.

Summers that seemed to go on forever- were a thing of the past. Now summer went by with a flick of the eye. We also went to Connecticut to visit relatives, but I don't even remember what we did there that year. On our way back home to South Park, I took out my phone in what felt like the whole summer. And practically, it was.

"_Hey Stan. How are you? I'm on my way back to South Park and I'm fucking bored."_ I sent the text in the rocking car: my first text to a friend in a long time.

The phone announced a text not a minute later, and I smiled.

"_Hey dude, I'm fine. You? I'm IN South Park and I'm fucking bored."_

I laughed. Suddenly, I missed South Park. I wanted to see Stan so bad, and my other friends for that matter.

I felt stronger now, and I thought that everything was going to be okay.

At that point, I sincerely thought so.

.

After that summer of sixteen, I haven't seen Matthieu again, and I probably never will. I miss that small summer romance, but somehow, I'm okay with that.

Because I carry his words, and a Lycoris radiata where no one can see.

And because I will never forget him. Ever.

.

_Matthieu. Meaning of name: Gift of God._

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for reading! **

**I uploaded a picture of Matthieu on deviantart and tumblr, if anyone's interested. I actually love that guy. **

**The next chapter will be very short. With a little surprise. In fact, it's only 2000 words and I don't know whether I should wait a week to update or update sooner. **


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N- Thanks you so much for your reviews guys! I was so glad you liked Matthieu. He means so much. **

**Do you remember when Kyle was talking about route 285?**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this short chapter~**

* * *

_Chapter Seven: Blue Alabama_

Sometimes, when I felt broken and empty, I would lie on my back and trace my memories back to the times of bright smiles and laughter. And when I did, strangely, I would always end up asking myself about the face that was now nowhere to be found.

_I wonder what that bastard is doing around now…_

.

The stench of alcohol and cigarettes polluted the limited air of the small building. The smell sank into the old logs of the walls and stained the wooden ceiling black like charcoal; nothing could be more delightful. Laughter, chattering, and the small drunken mumbling could be heard while a homely decorated piano was being played in the background.

From the decoration of the room it was possible to tell that the place held strong pride for local society and its history. Framed photos, mostly black and white, labelled and clean, hung on the walls along with deer's heads, which were respectful gifts from the local hunters of decades ago.

But one wall, free from photo frames and ornaments, was decorated completely with series of alcohol bottles. And in front of it, behind a counter, stood an old man with pearly white hair with a clean clothe and glass in his hand and clearly possessing a sense of perfection for the cleanness of the glass and the shape of his moustache.

A friendly bell rang through the air and the old man looked up briefly, smiling when he saw two young people enter his bar.

'Evenin' sonny' He said to the blond boy who came leaning on his counter as he continued to clean his already-perfect glass.

'Good evening Johnny,' the boy greeted back with a friendly grin.

Nodding, Old Johnny looked at the slightly older, yet beautiful woman standing behind him. 'And you too Sonnie.' He added with a smirk. The woman with black wavy hair and hazel eyes laughed sarcastically at the old joke and walked off, leaving the chuckling blond boy behind.

'She's so over that joke,' the boy said as he watched Sonnie walk off with her big black case, most likely with a wind instrument inside.

'Well _I'm_ sure not- say, ain't you a lil' late tonight?' Johnny said with half-curiosity. To that, the blond boy blinked his icy-blue eyes.

'Yeah, I was packing. Dude, tonight's my last night playing here. I told you so the other day.' He answered tiredly. Well, Johnny _was_ an old man, he thought to himself.

'Oh, right- right…' The old man said, placing his clean glass down satisfyingly and picking up another. 'Well, you better get crackin' then.' He urged.

The blond boy smiled widely and got off Johnny's counter.

'Sing your heart out Kenny,' The old man muttered.

'Like I do every night!' The blond boy called back.

Kenny arrived at Sonnie's side in the corner of the bar, right beside the piano. A stool and microphone waited for him as they did every night and Kenny took them with friendly hands.

'You ready there, Sonnie?' He asked as he watched her cast the strap of her saxophone over her shoulder and play a few notes, adjusting the sounds. She nodded at him and he turned his eyes to the man on the piano.

'How about you Jav?'

'Anytime you are kid.'

The blond smiled and tested his microphone before speaking. The cluttering of the bar didn't die down as he spoke, but he could feel the people's ears open up to his voice.

'Good evening everyone. As some of you may know already, this is my last night to perform in this shitty place in front of you fine people- you know I'm just kidding right, Johnny? You know I love this place.' Kenny raised his hand to the bar tender at the other side of the room as the drunk customers cackled stupidly at Kenny's joke. 'Where was I? Ah- whatever. Probably didn't matter anyway.'

Kenny's boot tapped the floor four times and the thick sound of Sonnie's confident saxophone began to play. And then, what everyone silently waited for: Kenny's voice entered the microphone. His voice, so clear and strong, reached every single corner of the room. His voice could travel decades and reach the nostalgia of the old customer's hearts and made the younger one's imagine what life would have been like in the middle of the previous century.

A little too quickly for Kenny's liking, a few hours past. With a few breaks in the middle and Kenny's last performance at Johnny's bar was coming to an end.

'Well everyone thanks for listening tonight, well, some of you are at least, or maybe you are just too drunk out of your minds to talk to each other, I don't know, but thanks anyway.' Kenny let out a single cough as a few laughed. 'So this is our last performance for the night, and yeah, so my last ever here. So enjoy this last song.'

Soft piano keys played in the unique melody of jazz. For a second, Kenny didn't know why he had picked the song. It was a little slow and dreary for his taste, especially for his last performance. But it just popped into his head as air entered his lungs when he had to make a choice.

'_It had to be you~'_

As his voice finally entered, the melodic saxophone joined him as well.

'_I've wondered around- and finally found- somebody who~'_

The crowd was quiet for once, and Kenny wondered whether they had all sobered up, or whether they had become absolutely smashed out of their minds.

'_Could make me be true~… Could make me be Blue~'_

For a second, the notes of the piano and the saxophone turned into falling snow before Kenny's eyes. The stench of smoke and alcohol disappeared into winter wonderland and the old ornaments on the walls turned into tall icy mountains: the scenery of his hometown.

'_And even be glad- just to be sad- thinking of you~'_

And Kenny wondered again, as his eyes dropped heavily to the ground, why he had chosen such a song.

'_For nobody else gave me the thrill~' _

The memory, the scenes of his hometown flashed into his mind, more strong and fresh than ever.

'_With all your faults, I love you still~'_

Yeah really, Kenny thought, why did I choose this fucking song?

'_It had to be you~'_

Finally after the song finished and the silence drained into the atmosphere did the people in the pub finally cheer. The sounds of whistles and clapping finally drew Kenny out of the memories of snow and back into the present reality. The cheers were loud and quick, the last applause for the blond boy Kenny.

'That's it for the night guys, thanks for listening.'

Kenny hopped off his stool and thanked the other players before walking back to the counter across from Johnny. Eyeing the tired boy with a smile that raised his moustache, Johnny raised his head and called out to the customers.

'We're closin' up now everyone. We're havin' an early night.'

With his quick announcement, there were a few small groans, but quickly enough, everyone in the room got up to leave.

'It was good listenin' to ya Kenny. It was a pleasant surprise to hear such a voice come out of a lanky youngster dressed in rags like you.' A few patted Kenny's back as they left and gave him a quick goodbye before the doorbell rang behind them. Kenny simply smiled and nodded at them as they walked by.

'Well, I guess we're off then too Johnny.' Sonnie said with her saxophone in her hand, followed by Jav. Kenny nodded at her and leaned off his stool, until Johnny's quick call stopped him.

'What'chu talkin' 'bout missy? Sit down and have a drink. You too Javari.' He gestured to the mousy looking man behind her, who quickly smiled and took a seat.

'So, when ya leavin' son?' Johnny asked as he poured the three drinks, and then one for himself. Kenny looked down at his glass and smirked at the slightly smaller portion. The old man never actually really believed in his fake ID did he?

'Tomorrow.' Kenny said after taking a sip of the burning liquid. 'I've already got my things packed, it's just a matter of putting myself in that damn truck.'

'Well, that won't be so hard with the wheels you've got.' Javari leaned in.

'Well, _I_ don't blame Kenny, the thing's fucking old.' Sonnie said, finishing her glass in one gulp.

'Wow, calm down sugarpie, aren'chu a little touchy tonight?'

'I'm not fucking touchy, I'm just a little pissed is all.'

'Well you played fine,' Kenny smiled troublingly.

'Yeah? And you sang fine too! What was that song anyway? You thinkin' 'bout some girl you left behind at Colorado?'

Kenny winced at her sharp words. 'Not exactly –' he said.

Sonnie sighed. 'I guess I am a little touchy tonight aren't I? Well I guess I'm still a bit pissed that you're sixteen.'

'Sixteen?' Javari leaned in again. 'I thought you were at least seventeen, dude.'

Kenny merely shrugged before Sonnie stepped in again.

'Yeah? Well he told me he was eighteen when we first met, and now I know that I banged a sixteen year old.'

'What!' Javari almost sprayed his drink. 'You two actually slept together?' His eyes were shocked.

'What did ya think? They've been livin' together for months now.'

'Yeah, and I live in that house too Johnny, thank you very much.' He turned back to Sonnie. 'I mean, I just thought that he was a little- young, for your liking. Even if he was eighteen, I mean.'

'What, do you think I'd rather have sex with you instead?'

'Nyeh, I mean, no. I mean, with your history, I thought you liked the older type.'

'Yeah? Well surprisingly, the fuck was as good so it doesn't matter, I think.'

'Thanks Sonnie.' Kenny smiled brightly as Sonnie blushed with gritted teeth.

'So, Kenny,' Johnny asked calmly, ignoring the other two beginning their own argument. 'What are you going to do when you get back home? You gonna get back together with your family?'

'My family?' Kenny chuckled tiredly. 'No sir. My dad's still probably driving his truck all over the country delivering shit, and my mom's still in California. And if there is one thing I'm not gonna do, it's going back to Californ-I.A.'

Johnny smirked. 'So whata you gonna do when you go back to Colorado?'

'Live alone, probably. Go back to my hometown, find a cheap apartment for myself, find a job, and go to school. Quite simple I say. See my old friends, meet a girl- thing's would be cool.'

'Hope thing's would turn out that simple.' Johnny said, filling up Kenny's empty glass.

'Yeah, well it's been a while since I saw them. Haven't been keeping in touch but I doubt they've changed much.'

'Well, you'll be surprised.'

'Not me!' Kenny laughed. 'Not them.' He took a swig.

'I'm already late for school though. The second year's already started, I think the first term finished actually, and it'll take me a few days to get there.'

'Are you starting as a second year?'

'Yup.'

'Ain't you a lil' I dunno- under qualified? I mean, you haven't been to school in over a year.' Johnny frowned with slight worry. But Kenny smiled, and thumbed the other two musicians still arguing against themselves.

'They've been great teachers. No matter how stupid they look.'

Johnny smirked, and relaxed a little.

'Well, I guess this is to you then.' He said, raising his half-empty glass. Kenny shrugged a smile, and clunked their gasses together.

'Thanks Johnny. Seriously, for everything. Without you and this job you gave me here, I will still be in California or in my dad's truck driving miles with that stupid drunk.'

'And you wouldn't have met us,' Sonnie joined in, raising her glass to clink hers together too, Javari following her gesture.

'To Kenny!' He cheered.

'To Kenny!' They all cheered, and their glasses met for the third time. But just as Kenny raised his glass to his lips, he drew it back, eyes disappearing into the distance.

Tomorrow he will be leaving this small country town, and in his small red truck, he will be on the highway making his way back to his old hometown. It was surreal. It was like a dream. The days long ride on that highway would be like a long trip in a time machine that would lead him to his childhood. The friendships, the laughter, and the mistake…

Kenny's hand gripped his glass tighter unconsciously.

The mistake… Repeating the word suddenly made everything disappear and Kenny smiled. It didn't matter anymore. Enough time has passed to make that mistake disappear along with all his regrets and undealt feelings.

Yes. This was going to be a new beginning. Everything was going to be new, simpler and more joyful.

To the new beginning…

Kenny drank the burning liquid down his throat with a satisfied smile.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight: Blue Sky_

'So- how was your summer?'

The ring shook and created a pleasant cluttering as the basketball elegantly made its way through, making Stan sigh softly at my sixteenth hoop. Our shadows grew long on the court, telling us that the time to go home would not be far away.

'Boring. Didn't do anything. You?'

The new school year was going to start tomorrow after that long, instant summer. In the distance, I heard my seventeenth shot enter the hoop, but my eyes were focused on the high sky above, watching the colours melt and mould into the colours of the setting sun. Summer was coming to an end; autumn was coming.

'Yeah. Nothing.'

A small, secret smile tinted my lips as I answered that one simple question.

.

The morning was filled with greetings, hey, sup, how was your summer? As much as I didn't miss them during the break, it was nice to finally see everyone's smiles and hear their stupid jokes on the first day. But my heart automatically jolted when I heard his footsteps behind me.

'It seems like everyone's had a good summer.'

To me, everyone's chattering instantly stopped to let his voice echo through nice and clearly. But in reality, nothing stopped except for my trace of thought.

'Hey Jew.'

I slowly turned back and glared up into his eyes, a firm, defiant smile stitched onto my lips that I only directed at him.

'Sup fatass.'

Amusement lit his eyes as his smile grew wider into his cheeks. That was not a response he was expecting. —No, I haven't forgotten what you had done to me you sick fuck. But you can't break me just by giving me one shitty hand-job you disgusting bastard. I screwed the message into him through my glare, trying not to be affected by the pleasure that was leaking out of him in response.

If all he wanted was control, then why was he so amused with my defiant attitude?

Eric was always cunning, with plans and schemes, but also with how to maximise his pleasure. Simply putting, he was an evil mastermind. Normally he wouldn't repeat himself, usually it was because previous actions had finished as a failure, or it was just plain fucking boring. But this time, he chose to do a second time.

For the first couple of weeks of my second high school year I was untouched, which was something I wasn't expecting. But I knew better than to get my hopes up and trust Cartman. I had done that in the past. But thing's were a little too quiet for my comfort.

I didn't see Eric in the library observing me like the previous year as I sat and waited for Stan on Monday afternoons. No bruises or marks were created on my body, and there were definitely no calls to the forth floor. He wasn't my friend again, but all my energy used to keep my guard up around him ended up in vain. But no matter what I say, guards that ended up in vain is much better than guards that ended up crumbling down.

It was in PE when my first challenge came. No, it wasn't in the change room this time. After what had happened on the last day of school last year I had learnt that changing with everyone was much safer than getting changed alone.

'I am sick, and tired of you moaning about your partners!' Our PE teacher, James, bellowed as he put kids into pairs. I was still waiting for my name to be called and already five pairs were complaining about their partners. 'If you have so many problems with your partners, then I'm going to make you do a trusting activity!'

The children instantly zipped their mouths; that was until the next pair was called out.

'That's it!' James yelled. 'All partners are doing trust-building activities!'

The temperature of the gym instantly dropped as I looked back to face that I was put with. He smiled back to me with his smoky eyes and that did it.

'James, I can't work with Eric!' The teacher glared at me in response, but that didn't matter. 'He'll drop me and break my spine if I do!'

'Don't worry. It'll do you good.' He blew the whistle in my face and I officially declared PE as my least favourite subject at school.

'Don't worry Kyle, you can trust me.' Eric smiled sweetly as I stomped towards him. I knew better. He was going to drop me on purpose and he wouldn't even be blamed for it.

'Fuck you.'

I shut my eyes and tensed my body into a straight plank, ready to fall behind so that, according to the teacher's plan, Eric would catch me.

'Relax, Kyle. I'll catch you. I promise.' A reassuring voice wormed its way into my ears and made me shiver. Oh God, he's trying to make me as heavy as possible so that my head would break against the floor when I drop, I repeated over and over again in my head.

Slowly, I released myself, from the top of the steep cliff and into the depths of the crashing waves at the bottom. A little dramatised, but that is what it felt like. My heart was thumping furiously like it was the end as my body split the air.

But my head didn't crack, and I didn't crash into the floor. A soft cushion caught me the second the fear rushed through my veins, and comfortable warmth slowly sank into my back.

'See, I told you you could trust me.'

Hands slowly wrapped around me, squeezing as if trying to inject more of its heat into my body.

I had no idea what that guy was thinking.

But if I ignored that small fact, then life was not so bad. My friends were their usual douchebags, Mondays were simply awesome as usual, my grades were as good as ever and Eric, no matter what he was thinking, didn't do anything. Confusion is not as bad as pain.

The best pain comes when you have everything, and then it's all taken away. Everyone knows that. And even with my trust for Eric gone, I still had much more compared to last year, and I would've liked to keep it that way. But the only reason why I had all that given back to me, was so that it could've been all taken away. Slowly. One by one.

First, it was my peace and safety, the one main thing that had been given back to me since the previous year.

The Lycoris radiata that Matthieu gave to me had long since died, but the dry flower was kept fairly safe in my pencil holder. Occasionally, while I was working at my desk, I would look at the dried flower with a smile and wonder how that French boy was doing about now. And that was exactly what I was thinking when I heard my mom's bright voice welcome someone in downstairs.

'Kyle! You're little friend's here to see you!'

'Okay! Just, tell him to come up here! I'll be finished in a minute.' And my homework was about done, just a few more questions here and there. My pen run though the notebook swiftly as my friend's steps made my stairs creak in the distance.

'Wait for a minute while I finish these questions will you?' I asked when I heard my bedroom door open, then close again.

'Sure thing Kahl.'

The soft sound of my pen scrolling through the page came to a sudden halt. My eyes were the only thing that moved, hovering up to the flower in my pencil holder, and I gulped.

'What are you doing here?'

'Oh, nothing much. Just thought I'll step by, you know?'

Slowly, my pen began to resume its writing, but my mind was on full alert for the person behind me. What the fuck was he doing here? He hadn't come to my house in months, almost a year! My writing came to a final finish and I tried not to sigh in relief that I finished my homework in peace. I gave the Lycoris radiata one last glance and turned back.

'Hi Eric.' I glared.

'Hey Kahl.' He grinned. 'Long time no see.'

'What the fuck are you talking about, we see each other at school-' But then I quickly understood, and my lips curled into a stone-like smile.

'I missed you Kahl,' Eric began as all my words died in my throat, 'I didn't see you all summer. Seems like you had a good one though, that's nice.'

'You have no idea fatass.'

Eric nodded acceptingly and perked his lips. 'Yeah, I don't.' He agreed. 'You mind telling me?'

I didn't nod, I didn't shake my head, and I kept my lips firmly together making sure I didn't say anything about my summer in Ottawa. Eric didn't deserve to know anything. He didn't deserve to know about that one meeting that changed my life. But Eric merely shrugged at my defiant attitude.

'I'll tell you about mine.' The bed creaked under his weight. 'It was fucking boring. It's just not the same without you here.'

His firm hand wrapped around my wrist, and before I could release a small yelp, my back crashed into the bed, the soft mattress suddenly feeling like cold rock.

_Creak_…

My eyes flung open and the smoke sucked all the air out of me, the smoke in Eric's eyes. The pits of my stomach felt like they were trying to sink into the mattress in disgust, trying to inch back as much as possible from the heavy body crawling on top of me. I hated his heat, and with each of his small movements I could feel more of it, especially the heat radiating from his smile.

'It's been a year, you know? 365 days.'

'Since what?' My eyebrows twitched in confusion at the sudden remark. The smile grew on Eric's face and his fingers crawled up and slid down my jaw and down onto my neck, holding lightly. And as he did, my heart was turning into another creature inside my ribs. As I tried to keep myself as emotionless as possible, I could hear it ramp around inside me.

'Since I strangled Butters's neck and you saw the marks. What a blessing.'

'I thought you said you didn't strangle him.' Now my ramping heart was showing in my heavy breaths, and the only thing I could do was hide it under a sarcastic smirk. But it didn't do anything.

'Oh yeah, that's right. That was his parents.' The strength from his core slowly travelled to his shoulders, then to his arms, his elbows, and then to his wrists, his hands, and then his fingers curling around my neck. 'The only one I'm doing this to, is you.'

All external sounds instantly faded into these fluffy noises around me, but somehow, I could hear myself choking on my own silent scream as clear as a bell. I felt life slowly drain out of me as the air disappeared. But I didn't know if it was that or if it was the pain in my throat, the creaking of my neck caused by those firm hands threatening to snap the bone in half, that was going to kill me.

Under immense agony, even as my brain felt like it was going to explode all over my walls, my body was strangely calm. My shaking fingers clawed at the hands around my neck, but everything else was still, as if my muscles had all turned to stone. Even as my eyesight was beginning to blur into darkness I could hear myself choke on empty air. My rock-stone body softly turned into a soft sponge and I began to sink into the bed. I died.

I resurrected only a few seconds later. My eyes slowly rolled back into life, dark round bubbles slowly fading away and bringing me to clarity. I must have coughed and choked for air at some point, but now my breaths were as calm as those of an insect. It felt like I was floating on clouds, so relaxing and almost pleasurable. But then I heard some cluttering in the distance, and I slowly raised my body up into reality.

'What are you doing?' I asked softly at Eric's back standing in front of my desk. My words were as blank and empty as my mind.

'What the fuck is this?' He turned back with an eyebrow furrowed in confusion. My blank eyes travelled down to his hand, and then with a screech in my head, my blank mind instantly burst with life.

'Don't you fucking touch that!' I screamed, jumping off of my bed. My dramatic reaction caused Eric's eyebrows to rise in amusement and he looked at the dead flower in his hands.

'Why not?'

'Because—' My words paused in realisation. —Because it was a present from someone very important… I couldn't say that. 'Because it's a Lycoris radiata. It's poisonous.' Although the poison's only in the bulb.

'It looks pretty dead to me.'

'Why don't you take a bite of it then and see what happens?' I challenged with a smirk, but that challenge was returned by a thin smile on Eric's mouth. 'Look, don't be stupid. Just give it back.'

'Why are you keeping it anyway if it's so poisonous?'

'That's none of your business. Just give it back! _Please_!'

'But it's poisonous Kyle. I can't let you get infected.' My heart stopped as Eric pulled a small lighter out of his pocket. 'I have a better idea.'

Before I could lunge at him, or even yell in protest, the dried flower that Matthieu gave me burst into magnificent flame, crying out in pain as Eric dropped the burning lily onto my carpet and watched it turn into ash. By the time I dropped to my knees, all that was left was burnt carpet and a pile of black dust.

'There. Now its poison can't hurt anyone.'

I couldn't move as he left the house.

My mom exploded in fury when she found the burnt carpet a few hours later. She thought that one of my friends smoked in my room and dropped some ash. I told her calmly that it was from a science experiment that I was stupid enough to do in my room.

I don't know how that dead flower became so meaningful to me. I mean, it was a dead fucking flower. If my mom had accidently threw it away, then it wouldn't have caused such a shock and a sense of despair. But because it burned in the hands of Eric Cartman, it felt as if all hope was lost.

I took out my scarf the next day in what seemed to be years. But what I had taken out to cover the marks around my neck had turned out to be a perfect shield to cover myself. Hiding my lips, hiding my breathing, and hiding my emotions somehow felt much safer. Safer from what?

Thing's went back to normal almost instantly after that day, to before the summer holidays. Apparently Eric was trying so hard to keep in his urges to bully me again after the summer. I could tell that much with every contact he had with me. Soon my torso, arms, legs, the skin hidden under my clothes were dyed with purple marks again. But it didn't hurt that much. Well, the bruises hurt like hell, but it didn't hurt me as much as watching Matthieu's flower burn in Eric's hand.

.

Slowly, my eyes began to open, and it was only when blinding light shot into my blurry vision did I notice that I had been in complete darkness. It felt like I had never woken up from a dream before, and I was having a lot of difficulty for my first attempt at it.

'How do you feel?'

A distant voice asked, but his face couldn't be made out with my blurry eyesight. I tried harder to focus on his face, but as I pushed myself off the mattress a shocking pain shot through my stomach and made me collapse back down into the bed.

'Where am I?' so I asked instead with a whisper-like groan.

'You're in the school infirmary.'

My head quivered in confusion.

'What happened?'

'You were smashed in the gut with a hockey stick in PE.'

Oh. That explained the pain in my stomach.

'By who?' My eyesight began to recover its full vision and my eyes shot wide in fear and fury when I saw the face in front of me.

'Hey-ey, calm down Kyle, you're going to hurt yourself.' Eric sneered as he pushed my frantically squirming body back into the bed.

'Get your hands off of me! Why are you even here you fuck!'

'I volunteered to watch over you after you passed out.'

A sarcastic sneer spread across my lips as I looked at him with disbelief. 'What? So you whacked me unconscious and brought me here alone? What the fuck are you planning you sick-'

'Oh, Kyle, you're awake?' The gentle voice instantly blew away my sardonic smile and I slowly turned my head to find Stan standing in the doorway. 'How are you feeling?'

'I'll be feeling much better if this asshole hadn't whacked me in the stomach!' I drilled hole into Eric with my eyes, but it only made Eric bat his eyes in amusement.

'Who? Cartman?' My glare froze at Stan's confused voice. 'He didn't hit you.'

'What-' I looked from Stan to Eric with jittery eyes, not being able to understand as Eric's smile began to grow wider. 'Then who did?'

'Clyde did.'

The cold air in the infirmary that was twirling a second ago instant stopped silent at that name.

'He lost control of the hocky stick and hit you in the stomach. It was an accident, though.'

Yeah, sure it was. I glanced up at Eric and saw that his smile and his amusement had suddenly gone somewhere.

'So, what's happening? Are we going back to class?'

'No.' Stan scoffed at the _apparently_ ridiculous idea. 'You're coming to my place.'

'What! I can't do that! How about class? I can't just ditch.'

'Dude, you fell fucking unconscious. And it's last session with barely an hour left. I tried to call your house but no one answered, so I'm taking you to mine. Or you could go to Cartman's if you want-'

'NO!' The answer bellowed out of me before I could control it. 'I mean,' I added, trying to wipe the confusion off of Stan's face, 'Eric's mom might be whoring out right now and I don't want to be listening to that.'

The laughter I got in response from Stan made my lungs relax in relief. But I shouldn't have said that. If I turned around and saw the emotion that twitched Eric's face at that statement I would have noticed. I shouldn't have said that.

'Come on Kyle, let's get you out of here. See ya Cartman.' Stan braced my arm around his shoulder trying to help me walk, uncomfortably under that height difference. He chuckled, 'Damn you're short.'

'Hey! You're just so friggin' tall! And I've grown one and a half inches last year, you know.'

'Eh, whatever-'

The hand securing let me slide off of him and I wobbled around on my own powerless feet. Just as I opened my mouth to complain, Stan crouched in his spot and showed me his back.

'Come on.' He flipped his hands. I knew exactly what he meant and sighed. It would have been much more fun if it was just going to be for enjoyment.

I placed myself onto his back and he hoisted me up into the air.

'That's better.' He grinned, the bright voice making my sore stomach squeeze. I wrapped my arms around him a little tighter than needed, just for my small pleasure. But just as we were about to make our way out the school, a high-pitched voice called my carrier's name and made him stop.

'Wendy?'

'So you're really going to take him back to your place?' The disbelief, almost offending tone in her voice was something I never expected from the sweet mature girl, and just as I would expect, she shook her head trying to calm herself down. 'I'm sorry Kyle, I didn't mean- anyway Stan, this isn't just an excuse for you to skip class, is it?'

'Of course not!' Stan exclaimed under me in shock, 'I'm doing this because I care!' And without another word, Stan turned and left the school.

'Dude, that sounded so gay didn't it?' Stan chuckled as he made our way to his car. My arms around him that unconsciously loosed at the presence of his girlfriend tightened themselves up as a comfortable warmness began to spread inside me.

'Sorry if I caused you two to fight,' I mumbled heavily.

'Ah- don't worry about that. She's being a little strange lately anyway-' he lifted his eyebrow up, 'actually, she's always been a little strange huh?'

Our laughter turned into white air and danced into the sky, suddenly reminding us that winter was only around the corner. The scarf around my neck suited the weather, but I should have taken it off.

.

'So, how was it?'

'How was what?'

We were in our usual corner again, in the shadows behind the school. But I had noticed over the past year that that one spot blocked out the wind and it was as quiet as numbing silence.

'Your little nursing from Stan. And how is your stomach looking—'

I flicked his hand away as it began to raise my shirt and coat up.

'Don't touch me.'

That glare and that voice that I spat at him made my heart shiver under my baggy clothes, and Eric's smile turned as cold as ever as he slowly raised his eyes from my hidden stomach to my nervous orbs.

'Ow— '

A small voice leaked out of me as a throbbing pain tore through my stomach, of piercing fingers digging into my bruise and pushing me, making me take a step back to lean my weight into the wall behind me.

'It doesn't seem that bad does it? I guess Stan nursed you properly.' The grip on my bruise loosened, letting me breathe after the pain. I gazed up hazily into his eyes as I gripped my stomach defensively, not moving my eyes as he straightened my clothes out like a butler and adjusting my scarf around my neck.

'I bet he pulled your shirt up slowly, and then gently pressed an ice pack on your bruise.' His grip around my scarf slowly began to tighten, and I felt my heart begin to speed up in response. 'I bet you let him do it without protest. Letting him do it as you wished for him to touch you more. Deeper-' the tension in his grips began to leak into the scarf and into my neck, 'and deeper-' my airways began to close in, and I could hear the familiar sound of my voice choking on my own throat, 'and deeper.'

Maybe it was because of my scarf being much thinner and more accurate than his bare fingers, but the pain digging into my neck was least of my concern. In fact, I couldn't have any concerns; my mind was too blank. My body was awake though, as my fingers clawed at the scarf choking me, but everything seemed so far away. It was beautiful winter weather, with the cold sky so clear and high, so blue. But that perfect view began to blur and turn into black spots, rolling into darkness. Even while my eyes felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets and my brain about to blow up against my skull, my mind felt strangely relaxed. And that didn't change as my body silently collapsed to the ground.

In the heavy darkness, the sensation of someone attacking my lips was so clear, yet so foreign. The warmth drew my eyes open, and I was woken up to smoky eyes and a thin smile that talked cold words after such a burning kiss.

'But you know that Stan would never touch you as deep as you wish for. Not even close. I mean, he doesn't even look at you properly. You show him your stomach, and the only thing he sees is Clyde's huge bruise. He doesn't see any of the other marks that are all over your body; the bruises the swells— he doesn't even notice them.'

'That's because I've never shown them you asshole.' I wiped my mouth aggressively with a shaking palm, 'I've never shown your bruises to anyone, not even Stan! That's why he hasn't noticed yet, that's why he's not here right now punching your face in.'

'But Kyle,' Eric soothed with a caring and sorrowful voice, 'if he wanted to have noticed, it would've been only too easy. Even with you- especially with you trying to hide them.' But then his soft, caring voice dropped into what felt like cold, heavy stones that hit reality into me so brutally. 'The only reason why he doesn't notice them Kahl, is because he doesn't care. And deep down you know. If you show people your marks and pain and they only showed disinterest, then you won't have an excuse for why people aren't helping you and caring for you.'

A gentle hand, contrasting so much from his cold voice, caressed the painful red marks that were appearing on my thin neck. 'While you hide those bruises you can say people aren't helping you because they don't know, but if you showed them, then it would be because they just don't care. And you wouldn't be able to take that, would you? To face the truth. And that's why you hide them.' Soft lips drew in and slid against my temple, breathing in the last words straight into my ear, 'And that is why you are going to continue hiding them.'

His words were all complete bull shit, only swarming into me to fuck up my mind. I knew that nothing he said could be trusted and that everything he said was a manipulating lie. Stan cared about me, and my other friends did too. They just didn't know.

Then why was it, that I averted my eyes away to the side to let a raging tear fall into the ground under me?

'Why did you kiss me?' I spat weakly, trying to avoid his words that were still echoing in my head.

The question made his mile grow, but it didn't reach his eyes like it usually did.

'Kahl, you already know why-' His fierce hand grabbed my jaw and pulled my face up so that our mouths collided again. 'That one is to confuse you, and make you remember what it's like, and the previous one was to remind you that Stan would never kiss you like this.' the amusing smile finally reached his eyes as he finished his answer, 'In short, it's to fuck your mind.'

Well if he's not fucking my body then that was fine but-

'How about the first one?' —The one last year after you gave me a blood nose, I asked with all the disgust I could master in my soft voice.

Thin eyes looked down on me almost painfully cold, the always-existing empty smile swept away from his face, and my last question was answered with a merciless kick in the ribs.

'Do you remember the birthday present I gave you last year Kahl?' I hissed in pain as he grabbed my hair, pulling me up so that our eyes were barely an inch apart. What birthday present, I cringed under the pain and confusion. 'You liked it a lot didn't you?'

That one quiet sentence shot something disgusting and cold through my chest and I squeezed out a choked cry just at the memory. And as if to accompany that memory, a cold hand began to slide against the front of my jeans.

'Why don't you give me something in return Kahl? For my birthday that you missed during the summer?'

'NO!'

With a desperate kick at Eric cutting through air I was instantly released and crashed into the winter ground, hearing my aggressive breaths bounce off the cold surface.

'You can return a present to me some other time Kahl,' a cold chuckle was left behind as he began to walk off with a sneer on his lips.

He scared me that day, he really did. The only thing I could hear as my feet rushed my way home was the sound of my own shaky breaths and my heart pounding in my ribs. The whole experience wasn't that scary, well it was, but I had experienced worse things last year.

What scared me was the realisation that Eric didn't flinch to hold back. I thought that if I endured the violence from him then that would be all, and after three years of having bruises on my stomach I would be free from his hands and off to college. Violence I could endure, but what if he was going to take that one step further in order to break me?

Once tore me up enough, but I was able to ignore it and think of it as just a bad memory. But an attempted second and a threatened third time was something I couldn't ignore.

Did Eric Cartman actually hate me? I didn't think that until now, I thought that all he wanted was a bit of a stress relief, a killing of time. But the way he talked to me that day, that black glint in his eye told me that he was not going to hold back to hurt me, break me. And could you really do that to someone you don't hate? Or was Eric just that much insane.

The first thing I did when I arrived at home was to take out a clean piece of letter paper that I received for my birthday ages ago. I mean, who writes letters these days? That was why they weren't touched until now. But the action was mostly automatic, and my mind was switched off because of too many thoughts rioting inside. I dug my pen into the paper and let my words flow on the page mindlessly.

I had noticed once my hand stopped, and my pen cluttered on the table that it was all useless. I didn't know where he lived. He would probably be in France by now, and I didn't even know his last name. All I knew was Matthieu.

In the letter, I asked him if he knew the language of flowers for Lycoris radiata. I asked him what he did when he was scared, when he knew that someone was going to hurt him. I asked him if he remembered when he told me that my eyes saw far, and he wished that they wouldn't have to see any further than this. I told him that I hoped so too, but that I felt that that was inevitable.

But all that was written in the letter without an address. Looking blankly at the finished, aimless letter, I slowly, yet accurately began to fold the paper, as if it was my only option of chance left. When I finished, what lied in my hand was a small paper plane.

The sky was still blue, without a spec of cloud to be seen, but strangely, the sun was nowhere to be seen either. Even in the beautiful weather, the cold air still pierced through my skin as I creaked my old window open to the full. The wind drained out and replaced the warmness in my room but I didn't care. Securing the paper plane in my finger and thumb, I swam my arm out the window and released the letter into the blue sky.

And as I watched the letter float through into the approaching winter, I wondered blankly if I was beginning to go insane.

.

I heard it as a rumour, but didn't have much interest for it. My mind was too occupied with other things, mostly, for being blank and studying.

Wake up, cross out a day on the calendar (a habit that I had recently picked up), go to school and act normal and live through the day as peaceful as possible, come home, homework, study and sleep; that was my usual routine, except Mondays. I was so exhausted everyday, I went out like a light. My mind was always so switched on, so alert all the time, I wondered how I was keeping it up.

'Are you okay dude?'

'Huh?'

For the first time in what felt like seconds, but was actually hours, I took my eyes off my text book and was greeted with a pair of worrying eyes. The blue orbs searched me curiously, and the only thing I could do was stare blankly at them stupidly.

'What do you mean?'

'Oh nothing it's just- you seam a little quiet lately.' Stan shook his head and dropped his eyes back onto his own book, but they slowly wondered back up to me. 'You seem exhausted or something.'

God, even Stan was beginning to notice.

'Yeah- too much studying, I guess-' that was all I was going to say to him, too tired to even consider telling him the truth as I returned my eyes back to my book.

'Sorry dude, you know- you don't have to study with me every Monday, I mean, you've been a huge help and all, but if it's too much for you, you can quit-'

'No!'

I blinked surprisingly at the sudden voice that was released from my mouth. But to me at the time, quitting my weekly study sessions with Stan was the last thing I wanted to do. Because… what else would I have had left? Without even realising, I guess I had become depended on that time with Stan more than anything.

'Well that's good-' I looked up confusedly and met Stan's bright, warm smile. 'I don't know what I'd do without our Mondays together.'

'I don't know- return to elementary? Shrivel up and die?' I said with a smirk, which drove Stan into laughter. But even with that stupid smirk on my lips, inside I was warming up like Stan had given me a small stove to place inside my chest.

'So, have you heard of the rumour Kyle?' Stan asked me when he finally finished his homework. I had finished mine long ago, and would have been able to finish it three times in that time span, but kept reading through the textbook while waiting for him.

'Yeah, I think so. Which one?'

'The one about the new kid.' My eyes glanced up and his grin widened satisfactorily.

'Who changes school this time of year?' My amusement was towards Stan's enthusiasm on the subject I had little interest on, but he interpreted it as curiosity for the subject.

'I know, right? The girls are hoping that it's some hot guy, some kind of mysterious prince I guess. But I hope it's a cute girl.'

'Wendy will kill you.' Trying to hide the weakness in my voice of that statement was not worth trying.

'I know, I'm joking.' He chuckled, and I tried to follow in too.

But after that little conversation, my interest towards the new kid rose a little, if only a little. Like it had created its tiny little spot in the corner of my head to keep cosy. I didn't care if it was a cute girl or a hot guy; I knew that one new kid in school wouldn't change anything. But despite that, there was still this curiosity inside me.

The new kid wasn't a girl, and though Stan said that he hoped the new kid to be one, he couldn't have been happier for whom it was, while I couldn't have been more disappointed, or even mad.

The new kid decided to come on the first day of snow of South Park, as if winter was what he had brought with him to this town. Or maybe it only seemed that way to me.

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for bearing through that chapter. I know it wasn't good, but the story actually begins next chapter! That must have been the longest intro ever, although that doesn't mean that there's heaps of story left. But I think this story is going to end up longer than I thought…**


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N- Thank you for the reviews. Thank you and thank you. I was so happy last chapter.**

**Warning- I'm not going to warn you anymore. But just one last warning, prepare for anything.**

* * *

Step 62: Scream out

_Chapter Nine: Blue Return_

It had been three years since I began calling Eric by his first name. I would never forget the first time I called him "Eric". It was not long after Kenny left South Park, and I was never meant to forget that small incident that brought us close together.

I wonder if that didn't happen, then we wouldn't have been that close, and my high school life would have been completely different, something very difficult to imagine.

But yeah, over all the potential things that led to my misery in high school, I guess that was one thing that definitely contributed.

But it doesn't matter now. It happened, and it passed. It ended. Everything does eventually, if you live though it.

And so I have one person to thank.

Thank you.

.

As he hopped himself out of that old, rusting truck of his, the old leather of his shoes sank deep into the first snow of the season fallen to the ground. The white air that surrounded him and pierced through the thin rags that clamped to his body made him gasp and stamp his feet on the ground in reminder of how cold his hometown was. But that realisation created this warmness inside him that made him bite on the cold air happily with a grin, because he was finally home. I could accurately picture his arrival in South Park as clear as day.

Meanwhile, I was dragging myself out of my warm bed reluctantly for another miserable day at school, a few thoughts entering my mind as I pondered my way through the morning. Even the obtuse Stan had noticed my late exhaustion apparently through my unconscious quietness. There was no doubt others would begin to notice too. God—I had to keep my act up. Cut and paste a smile onto my lips and loud words that would match.

Not many South Park High students drove to school. There was a school bus and even if they missed that, it was perfectly possible to walk from every corner of town, well, at least the most populated areas, and then there was that fundamental reason of many kids not owning their own car. So when I spotted that unrecognisable small orange truck glowing in the snow-covered car park of our school, I immediately got ideas.

Secretly, my heart was thumping subtly in my heart, unrecognised excitement flowing through my veins as I made my way through the school corridor, heading for my locker. Chattering, greetings and chuckling could be heard around me like every other day, but my ears were focusing on the small group of my friends surrounding someone around near my locker. Their excited voices and friendly laughter were a little different from the average morning, and by the way they gathered around that one very important someone, I knew that that someone was the owner of that unrecognisable orange truck. The new kid.

I could see glimpses of clothing from the gap of all my friends: loose jeans, thick boots, orange hoodie and jacket on top— but before I could take a better look, that small glimpse of him would be drowned under the shadows of my friends. From the way my friends surrounded him it was pretty obvious that the new kid was a guy, and by the way I could see the tip of his bright hoodie poke out from the top of the crowd he was reasonably tall—

Finally, as I was beginning to lean onto my toes in unconscious desperateness, one of my friends turned back, noticing my arrival, making a wide gap for me to finally take a good look at the newcomer.

The sound of my footsteps stopped; cold air caressed my eyeballs as my eyelids lifted wide open.

'Kyle!' Stan's voice called as I stared through the gap, the widest and most exciting grin on his face as he waved my way. But for the first time, Stan's existence wasn't entering my vision, and his voice wasn't registering in my ears. 'Guess who the new kid is!'

The loose jeans and orange hoodie froze at Stan's call, but slowly, his thick boots began to turn. The small smile that hinted my lips only a minute ago was now pursed into one straight line and my widened eyes were burning into a firm glare like a scared cat. But what I was feeling was far from fear.

His thick boots knocked against the frozen floor, echoing in my cold head, and then when they stopped, they were pointing straight at me. Loose jeans tucked into his thick boots, belt wrapped around his slim hips and under his jacket his bright orange hoodie wrinkled against his thin frame, its hood resting on his head, casting a shadow over his messy blond hair.

His habitual smile was still there on his thin, playful lips. His edgy eyes were as blue and vibrant as ever, icy, like mine. Straight nose, straight jaw, straight back standing long and tall. His plain, handsome features hadn't changed, only grown, with his skin slightly tanned over his time out of the small mountain town.

'Hey Kyle.'

Kenny McCormick.

I could feel the eyes of my friends shoot to me with excitement and expectation. Would I laugh? Would I yell out in blissful surprise? Would I tackle him into a hug? No. My shoes slowly tapped against the frozen floor and I turned without a single word, showing my back to all my friends and that abandoner without a single thought.

Confused, almost angry and frustrated mutterings were exchanged as I walked away from the group but I didn't care. What is his problem? I heard someone say. My problem was Kenny McCormick. The return of Kenny fucking McCormick.

.

Once the first snow of the year coats South Park it means that the soil won't be seen for another half a year. I watched my shoes dig into the thin layer of snow on the steps of the school entrance, the cold white hardening and forming into the shapes of my soles. In just a few minutes Stan would come out from training, and my way of killing the last few minutes of waiting on a Monday afternoon was to watch the soft snow harden as I trampled on them.

My mind flowed away into the events of that day, dominated by Kenny. Somehow, the one event of Kenny coming back erased everything else from my brain, like nothing else happened. Or maybe it was that nothing else really mattered. Even Eric stayed away from me that day, he too, too preoccupied with the return of an old friend. They used to be the closest to each other. Maybe now that Kenny had returned, Eric would continue to be distracted by him and forget about me. Yeah… A twisting grin etched into my lips and eyes.

'Wow…' I looked up in confusion at the familiar voice, grin instantly dropping from my face. Stan looked at me with a humorous smile tinting his face, body wrapped in a nice navy winter coat. 'That awkward moment when you find your friend smiling evilly at himself?'

'Shut up Stan-' I chuckled and hopped off the steps, almost crashing into him as usual, not deliberately though, I was just that fucking clumsy and the snow didn't help. But I gathered myself up quickly and created footprints on the pavement snow as we left the school.

'So, are we going to yours or mine today?' I asked merrily. The school day was at an end and now my time was reserved for Stan. Nothing could be better, in that depressing sort of way.

'Umm,' Stan wondered out loud, 'How about we go somewhere else for today? As a change?'

Without a second thought, I shrugged in agreement and followed him without a clue, and without the desire for one. But as we continued our little walk, and we were coming to the corner of town, my confusion began to stir inside me.

'Err… Stan? No offense but, where the fuck are we going?'

'We're nearly there.'

And with one final turn, we were there, looking up at a small, cheap-looking apartment secluded from the rest of town. I eyed it with growing confusion, but when I heard a sound of a car door closing and swang my head in reaction, everything came to place. A blond head poked his head out of an old orange truck and smiled widely when he saw us.

'Hey dudes!' the bright voice called as my face slowly dropped into distaste, 'Kyle, you came too!'

'Yeah, I brought him.' Stan grinned proudly as Kenny walked towards us, but I gaped at him in disbelief. So- Stan brought me here to Kenny's new apartment and deliberately didn't tell me where we were coming?

'I'm going home-' anger was time wasting, so I sighed and turned my back on them, only to make a firm hand wrap around my wrist to stop me.

'Kyle, wait. Why are you so hostile towards Kenny?'

'Huh?'

'Dude, for some reason you have been acting like a douchebag. I mean, I don't know what Kenny has done to you but he just came back today! You haven't even given him a chance!'

Suddenly my heart sank with Stan's words. He had that effect on me. And despite the fact that I couldn't forgive Kenny for leaving me in my time of need, maybe Stan was right. That was three years ago. And my misery now wasn't his fault, I tried to tell myself.

My eyes swam past Stan's and onto the icy-blue orbs that looked confusingly at me, and slowly, my heart began to soften its pumping and my muscles began to relax in Stan's hold. But just as I was about to nod in submission, I noticed another figure walking towards us from Kenny's truck. The tension began to return in my muscles and I grit my teeth in hatred as I watched Eric Cartman come towards us.

I quickly swang my head and drilled my hatred-filled eyes into Stan, the first glare I've given him in a long time, and growled into his face.

'No.'

With that one word, I flung my hand out of Stan's grip and turned around to leave, but this time Stan grabbed onto my two shoulders and twirled me around aggressively.

'What the hell's wrong with you today!' He yelled into my face, letting his fingers dig into me as if he was _actually_ trying to cause me pain. But this was nothing. This was fucking nothing compared to what that bastard standing beside Kenny had done only just last Friday, and every single fucking day before that.

'Kyle, dude, just give him a chance-'

'Why do you even fucking care Stan! You don't know anything, dude! You don't know that— Just, let, go!'

What was all this rage exploding inside me? It was as if Kenny's mere existence was giving me unlimited energy that flowed through my veins and everything was being exaggerated in my brain. Stan's ignorance, Kenny's innocent attitude and Eric's mere presence- everything! And it was bad. I was beginning to spill.

'Aw—it looks like the old couple are having a little marital quarrel.'

'Shut the fuck up Cartman! You know what Stan? If you love Kenny so fucking much why don't you just marry him!'

'Well, I'd rather marry him than you!'

As if those words were a pulled trigger, my whole body froze in his hold, the whole atmosphere turned still, except for Stan's grip that loosened slightly in confusion. It was pathetic, really, but—

'Fuck you, Stan…' My voice was weak.

'Aw, come on guys I'm serious. Don't fight, please?' A warm figure slipped in between me and Stan and I hovered a step back with wobbly legs. But despite the kind nature of the figure's action, I couldn't help but feel distaste for who it was.

'Fuck off Kenny, I'm not talking to you…'

Kenny blinked once with a blank face, and took one step back out of Stan and my way.

'Okay, that's it. Kiss and make up!'

And before my brain could even switch alive, a hand clenched the back of my head and pushed me forward until my lips collided with another. My eyes were wide open as I saw my kisser, and his were shockingly wide as well. But before the sensation of his lips could completely sink in, we drew back from each other with empty minds.

'There. Wasn't that better-'

Before he could even finish his words I collided the strongest fist I could muster in the blonde's cheek. Face fuming in rage and embarrassment, I stood over the fallen blond with a shaking body. This insensitive dickhead… I couldn't believe him.

'You bastard…'

I left before Stan could even think of stopping me this time. The air was cold, turning my warm heavy breaths white and releasing them into the sky as I looked up, desperate not to let my burning eyes do what they were in desperate need of. Even as the sound of thick boots crunching snow caught up from behind me, I didn't look down.

'You nearly let your mouth slip there Kahl. You should be thankful that Stan is so mind-numbingly stupid, and for Kenny just being clueless.' He walked beside me, our legs moving in unison. 'You seemed pretty worked up. Feeling pretty confident, I see.'

'Fuck off Cartman.'

'Ooh ve-e-ry confident.' A heavy arm wrapped around my shoulder, weighing me down to a halt. 'You sound as if we were still in elementary Kahl. Shouting like that, punching without thought, calling me Cartman… It's as if Kenny had never left.'

I took a quick glance backwards and saw Kenny now on his two feet, hand tight around his cheek as he stared at us.

A finger slid to my chin and lifted my face up gently, forcing me to stare into two smoky orbs. Eric smiled sweetly as he looked into my eyes.

'But thing's have changed Kahl, remember? We have all grown up.' His lips drew in to my temple to whisper unnecessary breaths into my ear. 'Come to the forth floor tomorrow.'

'What? Are you going to rape me?' I joked sarcastically for the first time on such a topic, the rage still in my veins. But the wide smile I received in response cooled me down to zero.

'Maybe.'

With a deep ice replacing my heart in my chest, I took a small step forward, and then another and another, until I was pondering my way home. Tears began to well up in my non-blinking eyes and streamed down my still cheeks. My mouth shook open, and I began to scream my cries into the winter sky, my voice drowning in the pit of my throat before they could come out as a sound.

The one thing I had, control for my own emotions, was completely ripped off of me for that one afternoon. But what's worse? Having all your emotions out of control, or having none at all?

What's _my_ opinion, you ask?

.

If there is one thing you need to know about Kenny, it's that he's a persistent, bickering, annoying little bastard. And as I sat in the library trying to read through the works of Sigmund Freud, he was proving himself positive quite well.

'Kyle, why aren't you talking to me?'

'Because we're in the library you dip-shit.'

My quiet whisper was answered with a loud and lengthy groan. He must have not had set foot in a school library for quite some time. Obviously, he didn't know the global-wide law that all libraries must be silent and food-free.

Up until now, I've been quite successful with ignoring the bastard, but as his groaning and moaning continued to pollute the wonderful atmosphere of the library, that was becoming a little difficult.

'Why are you here anyway? Don't you have class?' I hissed dangerously.

'How about you?'

'I have a free session!'

'Well I do too!'

'Only people taking advanced classes have a free session now!'

'I take an advanced class!' He drew back, clearly the words being sprayed out of his mouth automatically without much thought.

'Oh yeah? What is it?' I challenged, making him scratch his neck in consideration.

'Um… Advanced sexual education?'

That was it. I didn't have time for this.

Taking my frustration out on Freud's book by slamming it down on the table right before the blonde's eyes, I stood up and walked out of the library. Meditating would be better for my brain than trying to read with Kenny on my back.

'Kyle, wait up!'

His voice rang clear through the isolated and quiet hallway, silencing my footsteps that were going so fast until now. I let out one long, exasperated groan in resignation before turning around to face the pathetic blond following me with his long legs.

'Well?' I bellowed with open arms, making him stop dead in response.

'Huh?'

'What do you fucking want!' The words came out with a chuckle of frustrated disbelief.

'Oh…' He murmured, looking down at his shoes troublingly. 'I don't know, I just wanted to stop you. I wanted you to look at me I guess.'

For some unknown ridiculous reaction created by the all-mighty universe, I blushed at those words. Whether it was from being fed up, anger, frustration or embarrassment, I don't know. But it sucked up all the energy out of me in the form of a small sigh.

I slowly led our way onto a couch near the school entrance. The doors and large windows all showed the gentle snow falling outside, it was as if we were surrounded by walls that were created with glass.

'Are you still mad about what I did yesterday? I mean, about making you and Stan kiss?'

I scoffed. 'You have no idea.'

'Oh…' A heavy silence followed, and I could almost hear the small fragments of snow fall on top of each other outside until Kenny finally continued, 'So, you still like Stan as in, you know… _like_ like?'

'That's none of your business Kenny,' I answered just in time to make his question fall short and stood up from the couch before he could say any more. But he followed after me, until I finally stopped in the middle of the hallway.

'Why are you even here, Kenny?' The calm question shot Kenny's eyes straight up to mine in confusion. The true question that lingered inside me was something else, but that was all that I could manage to the carefree blond who had just returned.

'You mean, why am I back in South Park?' His spirit lifted as if the question was something so easy and simple and answering it would solve all the problems between us. 'Dude, to be honest, I haven't been at school in over a year. I mean, my family's all over the place and I thought that I could spend the rest of my schooldays here with you guys. Nice and fun.' He ended with a toothy grin and a shrug.

'Yeah? What would you consider as "fun"?'

'Oh, you know? Crappy grades, cheap apartment, simple job, hot girl, friends your own age, stuff like that.'

I scoffed. 'Do you think that'll be easy to achieve?'

'Well, sure-'

'How are you so sure of that?'

Our eyes met, his were wide and clear with confusion, while I knew mine were clouded with challenge.

'Well…' he began slowly, 'I already got myself an apartment, finding a job is on top of my list, the girls here aren't so bad and I've already got myself a few numbers and yeah. Oh, and this town, and you guys too, haven't changed at all so I have already slipped right back in.' His hand swayed down like a plane flying straight under an imaginary door to emphasise his words.

But contrasting heavily from his wide innocent grin, my head shook from side to side weakly in denial. It was as if I felt sorrow, regret and pity for being the one that had to tell Kenny the one, dreadful truth.

'Kenny… everything's changed.' The words were heavy and quiet as my heart squeezed painfully at those words.

'Nah-' But Kenny simply replied with a flick of the hand and a joking voice. 'Nothing's changed, dude! I've been here for a couple of days and already I've noticed and I swear, nothing's changed. I mean, you're still Super Best Friends with Stan, even though you had a bit of a fight, sorry about that. You're still the same nerd, Stan's the jock, I'm still the extremely handsome pervert,' he said with a playful grin, 'I mean the only thing's that's changed is the amount of fat on Cartman and you two becoming real close buds, which I guess _is_ kinda weird-'

'What about me?'

A long shadow crawled up behind me, turning me into stone.

'Speak of the Devil! What're you doing here Cartman?'

'Nature calls,' he said, and glanced down at me with simmering eyes, reminding me of what he had told me yesterday. 'Anyway, what were you saying?'

'Oh, nothing. Just the fact that you two have become real close over the time I've been gone.'

'Yeah,' I felt his arms slide onto my shoulder, 'we've become really close. Haven't we Kyle?'

Waiting for some sort of reaction from me but not receiving anything, Eric smirked and let go of my tensed body. 'I'll see you around,' he said before he turned to leave.

'So I guess thing's _do_ change,' Kenny stitched a wide grin onto his lips. So carefree, so clueless, so ignorant…

Without saying a word, I turned and left.

.

Finding a working tap in South Park High during the winter was close to a miracle, but strangely, the ones in the forth floor bathroom never froze. Not many students knew that little fact, but I did.

'So, Kenny's back. That must've been a surprise to you,' Eric's voice said from behind as I ran the freezing water over my numb fingers.

'What do you mean, "you"? Everyone was fucking surprised.'

Eric scoffed, then leaned off whatever was behind him that creaked under the weight. '_I_ knew he would come back.'

I raised my eyebrow in response without any interest. 'Really? Why?'

The sound of footsteps came up close behind me, making me flinch as subtly as possible and I could almost hear the sound of his lips curl up into a smile.

'You're happy he's here aren't you?'

'What!' I span my head around in disbelief, but when I met strong, smoky eyes, my breath stopped for a second. I turned back around and let the water ran down my fingers again. Yes, I was wasting water for a desperate attempt of distraction. 'Why the fuck would I be happy that that asshole's coming back?'

'Well, I dunno- 'cause thing's seem like they're back to the old days again?' Eric wondered out loud sarcastically, 'And because he made your dream come true?'

'Huh? What dream?' My eyes rose to the mirror to observe Eric's reflection in confusion.

'Your fairytale dream Jew, about Stan kissing you on the lips? Surely you haven't forgotten.'

His words shot an image straight through my head, making a melting warmness spread across my lips, so softly, that it almost felt like a dream. But it happened, and the sudden reminder let all the heat in my body rush to my face, making my cheeks burn like hell as I tried to force my mind back on my hands freezing underneath the cold water.

But suddenly, that same warmness and softness was placed upon my neck. And before I knew it, it turned into an almost painful burn. When I glimpsed at the mirror I saw Eric digging his mouth into that one spot on my neck, but when I opened my mouth to shout, the hot slimy tongue glazing across my skin drowned all the words out of me.

The next second I was on the floor, feeling the painful coldness of the bathroom floor seep through my shirt and into my back. But I was more concerned about the weight that was climbing on top of me.

'What the fuck are you doing?' I muttered, looking straight up into his burning eyes, but they said that he wasn't listening to my words. With a pounding heart, I ground my hands into his chest and pushed with all my might and yelled, 'Cartman, fuck! Get off of me-'

A rock-like fist collided into my cheek, immediately shutting me up with the shock. He normally didn't punch me in the face, not where people could see.

'What's with you suddenly calling me by my last name anyway? Have you forgotten that three years has passed since you were calling me that?' A cold hand slid up my top, and ground its fingers into my waist; the pain digging into my bruises was almost as bad as when they were first made, making me cry out in pain.

'You should be careful of what you say, Kyle,' a voice whispered warm breaths into my ear as I continued to whimper, 'you might turn out to be right.'

As soon as the words stopped, Eric's mouth locked onto mine, immediately sliding his tongue into my already-open mouth. The pain squeezing my bruises stopped, but it was replaced with the even more unpleasant feeling of Eric grinding himself into me, rubbing our groins together. He was already erected, and with a blurring mind I assumed that he must have had it while he was still only standing behind me. His mouth was still eating mine as his hands began to move, and when I heard the sound of my belt unlocking, as if it were a bell to begin I match, I bit down.

He screamed a muffled scream into his palm, anger and pain simmering in his cry. He jumped off of me as if I was burning coal and I watched him with round eyes as he clasped his mouth disbelievingly with his hand. Silence followed, and all there were, were our heavy breaths of shock slowly calming down.

The air was thick as I watched him from the floor, pushing myself up right without the heavy weight on me. I watched him, without blinking, as he slowly drew his hand back away from his mouth.

Blood.

He stared at his hand with blank eyes and an open mouth, speechless, and I was doing the same thing, but staring at his half-hanging mouth. Blood, mixed with saliva, drew a string from his bottom lip and fell into the white tiles below. A deep cut sunk into his bottom lip, coating his lips with gruesome red. My heart pounded, in horror and in amused cheer, and a breathless chuckle escaped my frozen lips. The sound prickled Eric into life and he moved his blank glance from his hand down to me.

'Served you right, you motherfuck.'

He listened to my voice expressionless, letting the words sink deep into his brain. And slowly, his lips grew into a smile, showing his blood-coated teeth that made my stomach flip just by the sight.

Before I could take in the warning, his weight jumped right back onto me again, shooting a fist into my face on the way. But he was still smiling. My head swang from side-to-side with every punch he shot into my face. It felt as if my jaw was shattering into pieces and my brain was turning into broken jelly, but still the fists came, all over my body from the straddling maniac.

My eyes flattered open after what felt like hours, or seconds later. Eric wasn't there anymore and the smoked window of the bathroom was dyed in pink and orange. But even as the sunset drowned the white tiles into the warmest colour, my body couldn't have been colder.

Without even looking, I could tell that my jacket was zipped open, my shirt scrunched up to my collarbone and both my jeans and underwear pulled down to my knees. My weak hand hovered down to my hips and thighs, and there, I felt dried up cum spread across my skin. I tried to keep my mind disconnected right now, but my vision began to dim automatically. Gulping, my hand slid around to my butt and a finger slide across my entrance, but nothing was there. No pain, no dryness or wetness- I sighed in relief and dropped my tired hand to the floor.

The memory that was gone when I woke up was slowly coming back to me, and then the words we exchanged yesterday replayed in my ears.

'_What? Are you going to rape me?'_

'_Maybe.'_

At least my prophecy wasn't completely fulfilled. At least, at least…

Fuck.

My hands grasped my hair and twisted the curls around my fingers, pulling as hard as I could, determined to rip my scalp off my scull.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_, fuck, _fuck_, fuck, FUCK!

My body turned still, frozen in that stance, until a second later my limbs sprang out and released themselves, spreading my body wide on the tiles as I stared at the cold ceiling above. My whole vision blurred as if I was underwater, and quietly, the tears went streaming down.

_Fuck_…

.

I made sure all the blood was rinsed away from me this time, but my face was already swelling. I didn't bother cleaning the dry cum off my legs; the first thing I was going to do when I got home was dip myself in a burning bath. So hot in fact, that it would disinfect my whole body clean from disgusting shame. But I knew that was impossible, and for two reasons.

One: there was nothing that could disinfect something like this.

And two: my mom blocked the way between me and my burning bath the second I got home.

'Where have you been?' Her voice was low, for a woman who never got her voice out of her nose.

'At school.' I answered, not intimidated, strangely, as I would normally be under her furious state. I was just frustrated, aching for a bath as she stood there with her big arms crossed against her chest and eyes staring drills into me.

'Don't you use that tone with me, young man! It's been over two hours since school finished and I want to know _why_ you are so late without a reason.'

Her voice was only getting sharper. Obviously she didn't notice the swells on my cheeks, my broken lip, bloated eyelids...

'What are you talking about? This isn't the first time I've been home late without a reason! Not by a long shot!'

Why did she have to pick today to yell at me? Why today? When I was feeling so broken, vulnerable and almost dangerously defensive?

'Well, that's because I wanted to ask you something, Kyle!' She yelled and drew out a piece of paper, showing it to me as if it was a list of the Ten Commandments and I had broken them all at once. 'What is this?' She hissed, clearly wanting to yell every single word.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

'My test.' I answered as if it was the most obvious thing, and it was, but my answer seemed to infuriate her even more.

'I can see that!' She bellowed, 'I'm asking you what is this?' She pointed at the red marking on the corner of the paper. 'A "B minus"?'

Fuck. That was the test that I took yesterday with a torn mind after meeting Kenny for the first time in years.

'I'm not angry _at_ you Kyle. I'm angry _for_ you,' she began her usual guilt-trip speech, 'you know that anything under an A at a school like yours won't be acceptable anywhere else. You have to be at least at the top in your grade to go into a proper university. I'm saying this for _you_, bubbe. You just need to try harder; school isn't just for fun.'

Oh she didn't just say that. I've been working my butt off every day studying and doing homework (which wasn't such a torture to me since it took my mind off _other_ things), and just because I get one B minus because of this tearing in my head, she was trying to rip me apart?

And really. No one knew that school wasn't fun more than I did. She had no fucking clue, and she was my mother.

But who was I kidding? I was the one not telling her. I was the one not telling anyone.

I stared intently at the hot water waving in the bathtub, waiting for the level to rise. There was my reflection on the rising water, and I sighed at the poor state of my face. But what bothered me more, was the burning mark on my neck; the blood had been completely sucked up by strong lips into my skin.

The whole bathroom was fuming with dense warmness that it made it hard to breathe; I could almost feel the moisture in the air enter and wash my lungs clean, even though that was impossible. When my eyes drifted heavily to my torso and observed all the bruises and bite marks, I knew it was impossible.

A painful hiss broke through my lips as I slid into the bath, both from the burning heat and the water seeping into my broken skin. Soon getting used to the pain, the muscles in my body released their knots and I sighed into the ceiling. I could hear each of my breaths echoing around me, too loud in this bathroom, almost eerie. And then there was my heart beat, slow for a second, but gradually began to quicken.

The memories were coming back to me…

My hands shot to my head and pulled on my hair frantically, so strong, that I let it drag my whole head into the water.

His lips moving from my mouth, down my neck, down to my chest, and then his razor sharp teeth digging down into my flesh… But my body was already so torn, I couldn't move. Even as he dragged my trousers down to my knees, exposing me to the cold. Even as he leaned over me and took his own cock out…

_Fucking SICK! _

I screamed under water, all the air turning into bursts of bubbles and rushing past my face and hair up into freedom. But that blast shot me right back up in desperation for air. The breath for life was so cold compared to the comforting, warm, drowning water.

I haven't had seen Eric's dick since we used to have baths together, back in elementary or maybe preschool. And it looked like nothing what it used to be. It wasn't merely a body part now, it was this disgusting creature that he had to hold in. Today, he was able to keep it under control; he showed me that much by not raping me. But I had found out its touch, its sensations. I had found it out when he clasped our dicks together and pumped them against each other furiously. The pain from the punching and biting eventually drove me into unconsciousness and I didn't remember how it ended, but… I just hoped, that all that dried cum on my thighs didn't belong to me.

The waves of the bath rocked up into small tsunamis and toppled out the rims as I rocked my self pathetically in that small container.

Why was this happening to me? For the hundredth- for the thousandth- for the millionth time I asked, _why_?

Fighting with Stan, getting a bad mark on my test, yelled at by my mum and getting half-raped by Eric… why was it all happening at once? It was as if, as if-

This was all _his_ fault…

_He_ was the reason why I got in a fight with Stan. _He_ was the reason why I couldn't concentrate on my test. _He_ was the reason for all that rage in me that caused Eric to be infuriated by my attitude and do such a thing.

This was all _his_ fault. His fault for abandoning us, me, without a single word and then suddenly coming back without a single word as well. He brought this when he came back.

My vision began to blur again, water filling up painfully in my eyes.

_No more crying. This wasn't your fault, you don't have to cry…_ But my tears wouldn't be convinced.

_Stop fucking crying you piece of shit!_

I bit down on my hand and shut my eyes desperately. My head was burning, about to explode if I didn't let any of the tears escape out, but I couldn't let myself do that. And still, tears managed to leak out of me and slide down my biting jaw. It hurt so much, but I didn't know where the pain came from. When I finally drew my hand out of my mouth, there were purple dents of my teeth crunching into my skin.

Surprisingly, there was no blood. Even after biting so hard, there was no blood. The fact was somehow excruciating, as if I suffered for nothing.

I wanted to see my blood, I didn't know why, but the urge tore me up.

.

That night was the first of many nights that I wasn't able to sleep. I read, I did pathetic sit-ups to exhaust myself, I masturbated, but still I couldn't fall asleep. Every time I closed my eyes and nuzzled into my sheets I saw shots of smoky, lust-filled eyes that caught me under its power and the only way to escape them was to shoot my eyes open again.

It read three o'clock in the morning. Fuck. I had been doing this for four hours and sleep was as close as it was at the beginning of the night.

With resignation, I sat up on my bed and noticed how bright my room was with just the moonlight making my curtains glow. It was so quiet, eerie, even, as I wrapped my baggy coat around myself and plopped my ushanka on my head, and slipped out of the house into the night.

The cold was instant and pierced right through me, so freshly and playfully. Outside was even brighter than my room, obviously, but I was still surprised at the remarkable beauty of the shining night sky. Not a cloud, just the millions and billions of stars and the one giant moon shining on the snow of South Park, looking over each and every one of its citizens. But now they were focused on me. I was the only one standing there underneath while everyone else was far away in their sleep.

My legs took me unconsciously through the town, and I somehow ended up on the swings of a small park, rocking myself quietly on my feet. I silently remembered the superhero that used to watch over this town and chuckled, but the sound died down when I noticed that he was no superhero.

I watched blankly at the road ahead, so quiet. But occasionally there would be the South Park bus that made its way through with its glowing feature, shining its light on me that quickly turned into shadow. There hardly was anyone that rode that bus, yet it drove twenty-four seven. Working so hard without anybody knowing its effort.

As I finally made my way home, I heard a vehicle run in the distance. It was at the very edge of town, and if my mind weren't so blank I would have wondered why the fuck my feet took me there, but I didn't. I simply raised my eyes up at the sound and saw car lights shine on the road, brightening the night enough to show the old orange truck drive into town. I knew that small truck, but my mind didn't register it.

When I arrived back home and slid myself into my bed, I was able to spend the last couple of hours of the night in sleep before I had to get up, and go through another day of misery. Although, now it was a little different, I guess.

Actually, no, scratch that. Nothing was different, if not worse.

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for reading.**


	10. Chapter 10

Step 19: Don't lie

_Chapter Ten: Blue City_

My mom let me stay home for a couple of days, maybe for compensation. She nearly screamed at my face in horror when I went downstairs for dinner. Obviously her anger had washed away and she was now able to notice my screwed up face.

'I got bashed up by some drunk on the way home,' I said the first thing that came to my head, but with a very calm and cold voice that sounded like nothing but the truth. And I added, 'That was why I was late.'

She sobbed and hugged me, apologising over and over again for not noticing my pain and yelling at me blindly. But as I felt her large body sink warmness into me, all I felt was cold. I couldn't care less about her apology, because it wasn't her fault. It was my fault for not telling her, and it would remain that way. I felt empty. But at least she let me stay home to see if my face would calm down. I practically had cold patches all over my face to cool for days, and it helped.

On the second day I received a text from Stan. As I read his name on my phone, those four letters suddenly seemed so foreign to me. I couldn't register them, and I don't think it was because we hadn't talked since our fight on Monday.

"_Dude, why weren't you at school yesterday? I'm sorry about the fight. I'm not mad anymore."_

_You're_ not mad anymore? The voice inside my head was filled with sarcasm, but then I noticed that I wasn't mad either. In fact, I _just couldn't care_.

"_I'm just a little sick dude. I will try and be back by tomorrow."_

The swelling mellowed down by the time I went back to school, and all that was left was a cut lip and one black eye that I hid with an eye patch. The eye patch was a fashion statement, or because I had an itchy eye. I don't know, it depended on my mood. But people bought it, at least, most did.

But the one guy who looked at me with worried eyes didn't say anything. He was too preoccupied with his first girlfriend. And who could that have been if it wasn't Bebe Stevens? Silently, I snickered coldly. Who could be better for the perverted playboy Kenny McCormick but the Queen Bitch of sluts Bebe Stevens?

'Well, that's Kenny for ya!' Stan cheered as we saw the two sneak into the janitor's closet. It was nice when Stan was amused, it made him smile. But I wasn't amused; I was too tired to be. The only thing I could do was sit quietly and lean my head against Stan's shoulder and feel his warmth. Normally, such an action would have made me explode from embarrassment, but I didn't even have the energy for that. Even as I felt Stan's girlfriend come up to us and ask if something was wrong with me, I stayed silent and leaned against my unrequited love.

'You know, if I didn't know better I would say you two were a gay couple.' I heard Wendy's voice joke in the distance, and Stan's chuckle followed.

'You better be careful Wendy, or I might dump your ass for his.'

They both laughed and slapped each other playfully, not even knowing how their little conversation made my heart cringe with ache.

'Hey Stan?' Wendy began, what seemed to be a more serious conversation by the way her chuckle died down. Stan hummed in question. 'Would it be okay if I go to one of your "study sessions"?'

I flung my eyes wide open in surprise at that question, and I think Stan did the same too.

'Why?' Stan murmured.

'Oh, you know? I could do with a bit of studying myself. And what's better to do than doing it with your friends?'

Her voice was cheerful, but it didn't help my brain spinning in slight panic. My Mondays— the Mondays with Stan that I used to charge my mental state up were going to be accompanied by Stan's girlfriend?

'I don't care. Ask Kyle.' Stan muttered, his words nothing but sharp glass to my chest. But of course he wouldn't have cared.

I lifted my eyes up tiredly, acting as if I had just woken up, and was met by two chocolate eyes turned blurry in my vision. Somehow, even with the blur, my heart thumped.

'Sure.' I answered the most civil answer; the answer that I didn't want to give.

Oh God. My life was beginning to drown in misery. But even those words lacked emotion.

And so, Wendy had joined our Monday study sessions, but not all of them. Somewhere inside me I hoped that it was Stan that convinced Wendy not to come every week, but why ever it was, I was glad that she only came occasionally. In the end, it was the most that I could ask for, especially while everything else were beginning to escalate.

As usual, what had been going on for over a year now, there were bruises on my torso. Kick, punch, squeeze, hit, the usual, the usual. But now there were other marks. New marks. And the worst thing about them was that they too, were becoming a "usual" mark.

When I took Eric's punches and kicks behind the school I would be biting grinding my teeth, tensing my body into a hard rock to take all that he had. But as soon as his attitude changed and when his hands shot at me in a different way, that was when I panicked.

'No! Stop!' I had never said that to his violence, because I got used to them only too quickly. But these… these you could never get used to.

'Shh… Kahl, do you want people to hear you?' Eric whispered as his lips moved from my neck to my ear. I whimpered in attempt to shut up, but the second his lips moved to my mouth I began screaming into his throat.

'No! Stop! Stop! I said stop!'

He growled in frustration, then he came down to whisper something darker into my ear, smoky eyes piercing straight through mine.

'Shut up _now_ Kyle. Or I _will_ rape you.'

His voice was so firm, so cold and so clear that it would instantly shut the mouth of a crying baby. And with words even more cruel than his voice, he instantly shut my mouth with ease.

I would stay quiet, my body silently shaking underneath him as he slowly ate me, tasted me. His lips, his tongue and his teeth travelled all over my torso and lower neck. And then the marks- the evidence that he left on me, the proof that he ate me, will be all over my chest and my stomach; the bruises of teeth and lips.

He would leave my aching body in the snow and go enjoy the rest of his lunch, while I stayed and let the cool of the snow recharge me as much as possible.

In the distance, I heard boots crunching snow, but my brain didn't register the sound. I simply continued to lie there in the snow, my arms and legs opened wide as I stared into the thick winter clouds in the sky.

'Oh, wow! Didn't think anyone would be here.' I knew that surprised voice, but still I stared into the sky without blinking. But in the distance, I heard that surprised voice stop its breath in confusion as he registered who I was, and he began to walk towards my lying frame.

'What are you doing here, Kyle?' The blond asked as he leaned over me. My blank eyes moved from the sky, motionless to Kenny, staring into his icy-blue orbs looking back down at me. But somehow, he averted his eyes slightly in reaction when our eyes suddenly met. He hovered them back into my gaze though, quickly, and I answered him.

'I'm making a snow angel. What does it look like?' I was joking, but my expressionless face and blank voice made the blonde's chuckle twitch in confusion of what to do.

And so I asked, 'what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be in some closet fucking Bebe?'

'Jealous?' He smirked, but unaffected by his words, I simply stared at him and his playful smile. It was a funny thought, really. If I simply unzipped my jumper and lifted up my shirt, showed him my torso and neck, I would be able to turn that smile upside down. He would gape at my skin in shock, and probably lose all words. I smirked at the thought, but didn't follow through with it.

'Yeah, I'm so totally jealous.' I said instead, the amused smirk still on my lips. But to my surprise, my response made Kenny lose all words nonetheless, even if it were only for a mere instant.

'Nah- I only came here for a smoke.' He said, changing topics and taking out a stick and lighting it. Normally, the action would make me scoff in disgust and walk away, I hate people who smoke, but this time as I watched him slide the small stick into his mouth I almost felt the urge to take it and stick it in my mouth.

As he smoked there in silence, all I could do was lie down and watch. His mouth parted, rested the cigarette on his lips, sucked the smoke in lightly, then breathed a soft grey ghost of air into the winter sky.

'Aren't you gonna get up?' Kenny finally asked, disconnecting my concentration on the cancer stick resting on his lips.

'Maybe.'

But in reality, I couldn't. Although I didn't show it over my expressionless face, my stomach still hurt from Eric a few minutes ago.

He blinked at me troublingly as I stared up at him, still expressionless, but my face finally rose into the emotion of surprise when a hand was given to me.

'Here,' Kenny said, extending his arm. Confusedly, I reached out my own hand in response and squeaked in pain when I was suddenly hurled up by his strong force.

'Ah- Are you okay?' He blinked in confusion and worry, noticing how I cringed from his help.

'Yeah, I'm fine.'

But I could still feel his worried eyes on me as I walked away, holding my stomach and arching my back as my feet dragged behind.

.

Why couldn't I go to sleep?

I twisted myself to the side, getting tangled in my own sheets, but that didn't help one bit. My head was light as if there was no brain inside, but so heavily cold at the same time that the mere thought of falling asleep was impossible. The moonlight that shone through the window was too bright, the sound of my parents' snores in the distance was too loud, it was too cold in that winter bed and my brain was too tensed to relax.

The number one and the two letters A and M glowed red in the midnight room, making me sigh.

The sound of me sliding out of my sheets and into the coldness of my room seemed so loud in my hollow head, and as I wiggled my jeans on and wrapped myself with my coat, I wondered if I would wake my parents up. But they didn't, just like last time, even as the stairs quietly creaked under the weight of my bones.

Hello stars, good evening moon; we meet again.

My white breath danced into the dark yet clear winter sky as I rocked myself slightly on the old swing. But then that white breath shone into bright red, and I looked down just in time to see the bus run by. Even as the light disappeared and all that was left was dark road, I didn't take my eyes off that spot. Not until it came back an hour or so later. That was when my legs raised my body up into the air.

'To Spenser please.'

The old bus driver eyed me suspiciously as I asked for my way to the closest street in town, but he accepted the coins that I had stashed in my pocket nonetheless.

It wasn't such a long ride into town, especially since the driver didn't need to stop once for any passengers. I was the only one. But what did a sixteen-year-old boy like me want in the city at two o'clock in the morning? He didn't ask, and I was grateful for that.

The silence that the city gave at night couldn't have been more calming. The glowing lights that sucked up all the stars were friendly and warm and wrapped you with its artificial hands. But that was nice. The sound of cars driving by was also nice, so dry and unfriendly, which I liked from them.

You would think that the city at midnight would be dangerous, but I just didn't care. I mean, I went to school everyday, so how bad could the city be? No. I just took a small stroll around town, soaking in the night and its unnatural mixture of darkness and blinding lights.

When I got back on the bus an hour later or so, the old bus driver looked at me still with his suspicious eyes, but still said nothing. That guy never slept, I swear. He must have been a vampire or something.

With three hours or so to go until I had to get out of bed for another day of school, I was able to drown myself to a deep sleep to let my body rest. Maybe I should ask my parents for sleeping pills, I thought. I would tell them that the stress of studying was getting to me.

But still, occasionally, I began to slip out of bed at midnight and go to the city to fill the emptiness inside me with the warmness of artificial light.

.

One conversation in the cafeteria is shared with everyone. It was almost as if one conversation was a show for everyone else who was chewing on their food, looking for the opportunity to comment on something. But I hardly paid attention to anyone's chattering. My ears only chose to pick up what was mildly interesting.

'So, have you found a job yet Kenny?' Token asked to the boy on his angle. My ears picked his question up with mild interest.

'Dude, I've been here for what, a month now? I would be dead if I didn't have a job!'

'Well dude, you don't seem to be doing much around the day. Do you like, work on the weekends or something?'

I understood where Token was going at. Kenny was usually hanging around after school, either hanging around with friends or doing some "social smoking", just general being in "the hood". I didn't know when he had the time to work, so I continued to listen to their conversation.

'Yeah, I work on Sundays,' Kenny answered, 'but I also work three school days too.'

'What do you do?' Craig asked, not even looking up from his food to show interest.

'Not telling.' Kenny winked, making Craig flip the bird, but saying nothing in response. But I wasn't happy with that answer.

'What's your job Kenny?' My question shot Kenny's eyes widely in my direction. It wasn't often that I talked to him, so my voice worked on him like some kind of zap.

'Err…' he began, scratching his head, 'I do some midnight delivery around the city.'

'Oh,' losing interest again, I looked back down at my food. My stomach curled as I looked at my half-eaten lunch; all the vegetables gone, all the carbohydrates left. I couldn't eat anymore. I didn't have any energy inside me, but I didn't want to do anything that required the energy that I consumed. I scraped my food off onto some football player's plate, and by the way he didn't say anything, I guess he was happy for it. And I was grateful that he didn't care. But an annoying pair of icy-blue eyes followed my actions, as if asking me worryingly if that was all that I was going to eat.

I wished that he would just fuck off.

.

Watching Stan and Wendy made me miserable. Don't get me wrong, they were both wonderful people that matched perfectly with each other—or maybe that was the problem. Either way, I hope you can understand. Maybe it's something all couples do, but Wendy had this sense of showing off their relationship with every chance possible, and it's not in that, rubbing her polished fingernails all over his torso and kissing him intently every five seconds, no. It was worse. It was what she said, the voice she used and how she would move that practically sprayed this scent in the air that read "True love; here and now". It was as if they were a couple married for years and lust was one of the last things on their mind because they were so _emotionally_ in love with each other.

Anyway, now almost half of my Mondays had turned into that: miserable. It had turned my own happy alone time with Stan that recharged my misery of the day, into being forced to watch Wendy and Stan set up their own lovey-dovey kingdom only across the table from me.

'I still can't believe you did that!' Wendy's high-pitched voice dragged me out of my imaginary world where the couple didn't exist, back into reality.

I was only half awake, but my mouth moved automatically in its polite nature, 'can't believe he did what?'

The chocolate brown eyes moved from Stan to me; her mouth in a tight frown but her eyes sparkling in amusement.

'Stan bit me the other night!' she scoffed, trying to put disgust into her voice, but clearly had the trouble doing so. But I didn't see the big deal of it, so my eyes were still glazed over with disinterest.

'I didn't bite that hard!' Stan protested, sending me an anxious glance.

'Oh yeah?' Wendy blushed with a smirk on her lips. 'Then why is it that I still have your bite mark on my boob?'

Oh Hell fucking God. I seriously, did _not_ need to hear that.

'Dude! Not in front of Kyle!' Stan's blush brightened out as he stood up and defended my "innocence". I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on the table, desperate to not be a part of this.

'And I already said that I was sorry. I was drunk!'

'Oh?' Wendy bat her long black lashes in mocking sorrow. 'Are you saying that you don't love me enough to bite me when you're sober?'

'What? Oh no, of course not-'

God, please anything. I didn't even know what I wanted from the high power now. Maybe I wanted the power to turn invisible. Or was it the power to melt into the chair I was sitting on? The power to evaporate into thin air?

Or maybe I just wanted the enough will power to stand up and leave.

.

'Here again, I see.'

The unfamiliar voice lifted my head and I met suspicious eyes framed with deep wrinkles etched into skin. It was the first time he actually talked to me, but it was obvious that he didn't do it to start a nice conversation. The urge to make a smartass comment wormed inside me, but instead I dropped my coins into the machine and went to my usual seat at the back. But even from there, the old driver's voice was as clear as if I was standing right next to him.

'You should be careful going to the city in the middle of the night, kid. It's dangerous out there.'

Although he hid it under his sceptical tone and harsh voice, I could tell that there was a general worry that he hid in his words. That realisation only created irritation inside me.

'Everywhere's dangerous—'

The driver obviously didn't catch what I mumbled, but I wasn't kind enough to repeat it for the old man. Instead, I stared out the dirty window, watching the lights outside shoot into horizontal lines. The only movement that I showed was blinking, too tired to move anything else. Yet I wasn't tired enough to sleep instead of taking a midnight stroll in the city. Strange, that.

When I got off the bus, the city instantly welcomed me into its peaceful parade of lights and quiet murmurs. At least it was happy to see me, I thought, without knowing its deep and dark motives. The city was like the ocean, so quiet and calming as I let my body float with the movement of the waves and my mind sink deep into the depth of the dark water.

The cold, yet soft breeze of the city floated through me, seeping through my clothes and brushing against the skin of my stomach, making me cringe slightly as the coldness prickled the pains on my torso.

And then suddenly, Wendy's voice echoed inside my head.

'_I still can't believe you did that!'_

I could, because someone was doing it to me almost everyday. The bite marks along my torso were created with such ease, such casual movements that I almost felt as if it were something normal. But apparently it wasn't.

Yeah. Come to think of it, just because I was getting used to it, didn't mean that it was becoming a normal thing. It meant that it was just becoming a casual thing. Maybe it meant that I was going insane.

'_Are you saying that you don't love me enough to bite me when you're sober?'_

Those words shot a metal rod right through my body that froze me in that stance in shock. Slowly, as I sank Wendy's words into my brain, my legs began to work faster, even without an aim. They flung forward and backward aggressively as if kicking the ground with all its force was its only purpose in life.

Wendy's words were completely and utterly, disgustingly wrong. Digging teeth into one's flesh wasn't a passionate action. It was just an action. And surely as fuck did it NOT need love, or did it need any other sort of emotion except for the desire to hurt someone else.

The rage that swarmed in my head overtook every inch of my body and worked as a driving force to push me through the cold air of the midnight city. Words, words, words—like a cluster of bees they dominated my mind, and the sudden urge to cry burned my face—

Suddenly, my eyes blinked wide open, and I gasped back to reality. For the whole time I was drowning in my own, aimless, hopeless thoughts, my legs had been doing their job automatically, carrying my body through each corner of the city. And so now, where the fuck was I?

The street my legs had dragged me into was dark, with all the cafes and restaurants closed with only the lights of the business buildings in the distance leaking through the small gaps of the street. I wasn't scared of the dark, but the sudden dark alleyway made me feel insecure. My heart subtly pounded in my chest as I swiftly made my way through the isolated street.

My heart finally lifted when the light of the street ahead was only a dozen meters or so away, but when I entered that bright, hope-filled street, I found out that the light was only from a dying streetlamp flickering around the corner. This street was even worse, if you could even call it a street and not an alley. The borders of the street were made up with tall brick walls, that alone, enough to give the wide street an eerie feel. Not a figure was in sight, and not a voice could be heard; only my heavy breathing and echoing footsteps bouncing off the bricks entered my ears. With every step, my heart began to pound faster and faster, until the brick walls came to an end, and I was released into a real street with real lights that let me take a breath of relief.

There was still no one to be found, thankfully, but the cold air around me was now carrying the laughter and chattering of drunken men. I dragged my eyes up to see the light shining out from a bar in the distance. A second ago I was fearful of the deep sense of isolation in that alleyway, but now something sank in my stomach as the strong vibe of human assembly filled the calming city air.

And my heart began to pound again as I walked straight on the pavement that led closer to the bar. I didn't know what I was so nervous about, it was only a bar, and would only take me a couple of seconds to walk past it. But still I couldn't help the tension in my body as I walked past the chattering and laughing, and that is when the door of the bar flung open to let a couple of drunks tumble out of the shop with bottles in their hands.

'Hey! Watch it kid!' One yelled with a red face, eyes glazed over and unfocused, clearly, utterly, completely, pissed out of his mind. He needed the other drunk to lend him a shoulder to actually stay up.

'I'm sorry-' I muttered a half-hearted apology and turned to move away, that is, until I heard his long, angry groan.

'Ah! Look! I fuckin' spilt the beer all over my fuckin' shirt! This is all your fault you fuckin' brat!' He spread his wet shirt out as if to show me, and at that point I was beginning to notice my breath becoming heavier with nervousness.

'Dude, that sucks!' The other guy laughed through his drunken nose as he observed the wet shirt, and then his unfocused eyes swam towards me. 'Kid, that was his favourite shirt! You should pay him for the cleaner's bill or somethin'.'

The other pair of the more angry eyes flew up at that suggestion, and I accidently met his eyes. I saw them turn from anger into melting delight.

'Actually, you're pretty cute.' My stomach shrivelled up with his words. The other guy simply cracked up at that statement, but there was no amusement inside me as I watched the victim lean up from his friend to inch closer to me. 'I know a better way for you to pay me back…'

My feet didn't think twice to kick the ground and run. My desperate action apparently pulled the laughter fuse in the two as I heard them burst out cackling behind me. But soon that laughter stopped, and I began to hear their footsteps kick the ground after me instead.

Fuck! Only a second ago those two were tumbling over their own drunken feet! How could they possibly be running so fast? And fuck— why were they running after me like this? Why was this happening to me?

As I pumped my thin legs desperately inside my baggy pants, I caught a glimpse of a familiar orange truck parked on the road in the corner of my eye. But I didn't take much notice of it as I simply ran for my life, that was, until I almost choked on the collar of my own shirt when they finally reached me and yanked me from behind.

'Fucking drunkard son of a bitch! Let go of me!'

They were still laughing as I thrashed through the air desperately in aim to get away. But their drunken grip wouldn't let me go. Instead I was hurled around, forced to look at the burning eyes of that intoxicated asshole. The sight instantly froze my body.

'Oh, come on pretty boy! You just ruined an expensive brand t-shirt, make up for it will ya!'

I couldn't help it.

'More like a third class brand t-shirt,' I spat bitterly. His amused eyes instantly fell into thin slits, along with his smile that turned into a fierce scowl. Why couldn't I just shut my defiant mouth for one second? The fingers digging into my collar tightened its grip in pure anger as his other hand curled up and rose to aim for my cheek, causing my heart to pound aggressively inside my frozen body. But the expected fist never collided into my face, for a loud, clear voice caught it in mid-shoot.

'Hey! Hey you! What the fuck are you doing!'

My pounding heart instantly stopped at the familiar voice.

—No… It couldn't be…

But checking the face of the owner of that voice was my last priority. I took that chance the drunkard got distracted to twist myself free and run in the opposite direction, away from the voice of my saviour. But as I turned, I saw a glimpse of orange and blond hair behind the two drunks. And after that, my driving force turned from running away from danger, to running away from being seen by my saviour.

The voice called out to me, but that didn't stop me. My legs pumped like no other. Who would have ever thought that being seen by your classmate in the middle of the night would be worse than getting caught by two perverted drunks? No one. But then again, I was a little out of my mind. My priorities were fucked up.

I didn't stop until I reached the bus stop, and my luck suddenly showed itself when I found the bus just arriving to fetch me. The bus driver's usual tinge of suspicion turned into surprise for a moment as I tumbled into the bus like I'd just been running away from giant guinea pigs.

My head in knots, the world changing around me too quickly for my mind to keep up with, I threw the coins into the machine without a single word and made my way to the far back of the bus, away from the only person in the bus as far as possible.

As the bus turned through its usual mountain roads, making me rock slightly from the waves of the road, my mind was filled with unnecessary anxiety.

Was that blond who saved me really who I thought he was? Or maybe he was just some random blond teenager that I've never met and probably never will again in my life? But then the glimpse of that small orange truck parked in the road flashed in my memory, and there was no way for me to deny.

All I could do now, if he ever mentioned what happed that night in the city, was to act dumb, or to act as if he were dumb, in which case it wouldn't be acting.

But still that blond was in my mind for the rest of the midnight journey, and for the rest of the night until the morning sun shone in my eyes to announce the beginning of another miserable day.

Another miserable day at school, with the extra spice of annoying bickering.

A flash of bright blond hair came my way; I took a secret glance from the corner of my eye. It took him longer than I thought— long enough to think that he wouldn't come at all. But there he was, with a small frown that wondered whether he should act casual, or whether to act confronting towards me.

He chose to take the casual act, his signature grin slowly spreading across his face.

'Hey,' he said, placing a hand on my table and leaning his body weight into it like he couldn't care less.

'…Hi,' I answered reluctantly. There was a book in my hands- Carl Rogers I think. I kept my eyes glued to the pages but none of his words were being reflected in my head, even before Kenny came towards me. His humanistic belief that all people were inherently good was a little too much for me- especially after reading Freud. I mean, harmony with your inner self? How could a human being do such a thing?

For a few seconds Kenny didn't say anything. He just kept leaning against my table, glancing around the room as if he had just come to me for the company of a friend. But I knew better. I was only waiting for one thing, one question. And it did finally come. He slid it out of his mouth without the smoothness he was intending to put in.

'Hey, Kyle?'

'Mm-hmm?'

'Did you go to the city last night?'

'No.'

The weight leaning into the arm that was sinking into my table tensed, and I felt his round eyes look down at me at my answer. What was he expecting? To me to say 'Yeah, I was in the city last night at three AM. Oh yeah, and thanks for saving me from getting raped by the way'? No way, dude.

'Are you sure?' He asked, still with disbelief.

'Dude, I would know if I was in the city last night, and I wasn't. And if I was, I probably wouldn't be here because my mom would have killed me!'

I looked up at him, looking into his eyes as he pursed his lips into one straight line— pathetic.

'Dude, I swear I saw you—'

'Look,' I growled, eyes glaring now, 'I didn't go to the fucking city last night okay? For the last fucking time now. Fuck. Off.'

A tinge of piercing ice glinted in his eyes, narrowing his eyes into a cold glare.

'Fine! I was just asking a fucking question, you cocksucking fuckhole.'

The weight from his arm that was leaning into my table instantly lifted, and he stomped off, huffing angrily into the air.

But as if I cared.

Cocksucking fuckhole. That is what he called me that day. Kenny McCormick was always the one you could count on for swear words and insults. When he said that to me then, I couldn't have cared less, in fact, I think I even scoffed at his words before returning to Carl Rogers.

But if he had said that to me only a couple of weeks later, I think the words may have had electrified my body and made my senses go numb. They would have shocked me painfully, although I wouldn't have shown a speck of it. Although I thought that I was feeling so much pain that I was going numb, maybe I was unconsciously turning into a rotten peach. Small words that touched me a little could have easily bruised me— if they were the right words.

Insults mean nothing usually, because they are usually stupid metaphors that are meant to be like nothing in their literal sense. Just because someone called you a bitch didn't make you a female dog. Being called a dickhead didn't mean that you were a penile head. Just because someone called you a cocksucking fuckhole didn't mean that you were a person who sucked cock and a hole for people to put their dick in.

But those words— if Kenny had called me that a couple of weeks later, no one could have known how literal they would have been.

.

The forth floor bathroom was definitely the coldest place in the school, even more than outside where the snow fell endlessly and the wind blew like it was running for its life. Who ever said that heat rises? The white tiles on the wall, the white tiles on the ground— they were all frozen like they were made of ice, and the small smoked-glass window was all frosted over. It either made every single subtle sound you make echo around mercilessly, mocking your self-consciousness, or sucked up your scream deep into its coldness so that it wouldn't escape. The breath that you released into the small, lonely room was so white, you would think it was smoke that would lead you into another universe.

That one small white room was my least favourite place in the whole world.

But almost as much as I hated it, there was someone who loved it. And he was standing right beside me.

'So, how's life?'

The school was as quiet as ever, every pupil in class with a zipped mouth (at least _I_ would have been) and listening to the teacher. The sound of the running water dribbling over my hands was not enough to distract me from Eric's voice.

'Don't you have your own business to attend to?'

I nodded my head towards the urinal with uninterested eyes.

'I thought you came here for that too. Washing your hands before and after…'

'I don't need to anymore.'

And I didn't. I asked the teacher to excuse me for a second to go to the bathroom, and fucking Eric said _so kindly_ that he would accompany me. I was not intending to come to this bathroom. It was Eric that dragged me in. And who possibly could have relieved themselves under such nervousness? By the smell of the place I guess no one could. The bathroom didn't even smell like one. The place smelt like nothing, unless coldness had a smell. If it did, that is what it would have smelt like.

My eyes were still glued to the running water as Eric asked the next question.

'Kenny's fitted in well hasn't he?'

That one name made my eyebrow twitch, but I tried to hide it.

'I guess.'

I screwed the tap shut of its freezing water with numb hands. My heart was beginning to thud nervously and I was desperate to leave, although the only thing I showed was cold disinterest in Eric's existence beside me. I couldn't fight him off with my twig-like legs and arms. The only thing I could do to show disobedience was through emotionless eyes and voice.

'Well if you don't need to pee, we should go back to class.' I flicked the droplets off my numb fingers, staring into Eric's eyes, watching him, my heart racing, as he began to smile.

'Not so fast Kahl.'

The sound of my heart echoed in my ear one last time, before coldness swept over my body with despair.

'What do you want?'

To beat me? To eat me? What was it this time?

But as he slowly took something out from his pocket, my eyes glazed over with hopelessness shot wide open in horror.

The glint of a small pocketknife shone mercilessly at me in Eric's hands. The clean, sharp surface of the knife reflected the white tiles that surrounded us, and it smiled at me, smiled down on its prey.

Oh God, I thought with panic exploding in my head, my lungs, my veins and my heart. Eric Cartman had finally lost it. He was going to fucking _kill_ me. He was going to dye the white tiles around us red with my blood that he will draw with that knife—

The small knife glittered playfully as Eric flicked his wrist, cutting my thoughts out for a second as I raised my eyes blank from panic, from the knife, to Eric's eyes. That is when the panicking burn inside me instantly froze to a hopeless cold, and I was looking at him as he drew out soft orders from his mouth.

'On your knees, Kyle. And open your mouth.'

I hated that one room on the forth floor; I cursed it and loathed it with every inch of my empty body more than anything.

…No— the one thing that I hated more than the room was the person who led me to it.

And as I looked into his smoky orbs with an excruciating heat burning my own glaring eyes I wondered.

I wondered if he felt the same way about me.

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for reading/reviewing! Love!**


	11. Chapter 11

Step 45: Touch

_Chapter Eleven: Blue Warmth_

There was never an end was there?

Even as I fell into the depth of despair and stared down on the glimmering knife in Eric's hands, my body was still shaking in fear and my lungs were shrinking in my ribs like dying balloons, making it hard for me to breathe. But to think of it that way, maybe I wasn't in despair. Maybe I wasn't in that endless pit of pitch black, because if I were, I wouldn't have even felt fear. I would have felt nothing.

No, I wasn't in despair. That was why it was so excruciating.

'Do as I say Kahl.'

Eric took one step forward, tearing the knife through thick air to clear his way. I took a step back.

'What?'

Another step. Another step.

'Get on your petty knees Kahl, and open that pretty little mouth of yours.'

Each step echoed dimly in that glowing white room.

'Why? What are you going to do?'

It was impossible to hide the shake in my voice now. My pounding heart was rattling inside me, making my words chatter.

And Eric's smile widened sweetly—

'So that I can rape your fucking mouth.'

My back hit the wall behind me, the soft sound almost like an explosion to my ears. And in an instant, I felt his heat generating from his hand being placed beside my face. I was staring into his thinning eyes as he slowly drew the knife to my lips, tilting the blade to part my mouth. I couldn't breathe anymore, petrified in fear as the knife rested delightfully in my mouth, ready to cut anytime. My lips parted.

'Open wide Kahl, if you don't want to star as the next Joker.'

I pled to him with my watering eyes, something I had never done before, and I thought I would never do. And slowly, I opened my mouth wide, letting the cold blade slide off my tongue, leaving a string of saliva. Everything went so slow, every move was so delicate, and everything was exaggerated. The taste of the blade's metal, the warmness of my mouth and movement of my tongue inside me, cold air entering and caressing my tongue and lips— everything.

'Now, on your knees.'

No longer being able to look into his face, a small tear fell onto the floor, its weight bringing me down with it. My knees were so heavy, and cold as they hit the tiles.

With a gentle smile, Eric slid the knife down from my cheek, onto my neck.

'Don't you even think of biting down Kahl,' he said as his other hand flicked open the button of his jeans, and slowly slid the zipper down.

I shut my eyes close painfully tight; I didn't want to see what was coming next.

I felt it strong enough anyway.

He didn't start mildly, he didn't keep anything in; he just fucking went straight for it.

The first thing I felt was warmness, unnatural warmness spreading into my mouth; the slimy smoothness and roughness of his cock sliding inside. The stench of his dick leaked into my nostrils and the taste was even worse, well, I think it would have been if I wasn't distracted by the excruciating collapse of my own throat.

The sound of my immediate gagging shot to my ears, but it wasn't enough to drown out the sound of Eric's grunting. He drew back, letting me choke for air for a second, only to shove his dick right back into my mouth.

'Fuck!' He gasped as he thrust into my mouth and throat over and over again. His dick was growing harder with each time and I felt it on my tongue. Was there anything in my life that ever felt worse? Was there anything in my life that I wouldn't have exchanged to get me out of that situation I was in?

When his hand gripped my hair, burning my pores as he pulled, the pain was the best of the worst. For a brief second, it distracted me from the cock that was being thrust into my mouth and the sound of Eric's voice of pleasure, but when he used that grip to shove his cock deeper into my throat, it was not worth it.

He began to speed up, his thrusts becoming more aggressive as he dug into my throat over and over again. I couldn't think anymore, I couldn't even pray for it to be over as quickly as possible. Each thrust shot any speck of thought right out of my brain and all there were, were taste, feel, smell and pain.

A fierce tug on my hair tilted my face up and with one last thrust, Eric released into my mouth. But he didn't stop immediately. Even as I coughed on his cum, almost choking, he drew out and pumped himself a few times until he milked himself free on the floor. I was desperate to lean forward and spit his cum out of my mouth, but the second I showed any sign of that, Eric pushed me backwards and slammed me into the tiles, placing a thick hand on my mouth.

'Swallow.'

My eyes shot open for the first time in disbelief. But the burning eyes that pierced through me said that he couldn't have been more serious. His hand pressed harder into my lips, smoky orbs glimmering more dangerously in delight.

'Swallow Kahl. Or do you don't want to die choking on my seed?'

I struggled under his hold, twist and turned and tore my limbs desperately through empty air. I wasn't gonna swallow. I swore on my life that whatever I do I wasn't gonna swallow...

I swallowed. A thick chunk of his cum pushed its way down my throat and into the pits of my stomach. I swallowed.

That second, the cords in my body snapped broken and my limbs fell lifelessly to the ground. There was nothing in my body now. Nothing at all. When Eric kicked me in the ribs before walking out of the bathroom, I coughed and curled up into a ball, but that was it. I didn't even say a word to him, condemn him, swear at him as he left—

I had never felt so sick…

When the door closed behind Eric I dragged my desperate self to a toilet, shoved a finger deep into my mouth pushing through the thick tongue and closing walls of my mouth until I reached the uvula, and threw up everything I had into the toilet bowl. The acid and the bitterness scraped my throat and mouth but I didn't care. I was desperate to get every single speck of Eric out of me. I coughed the last bits of my stomach out and, exhausted, pulled down the lever to flush my contents away.

_Hey Kyle, hi. So, how did it feel?_

I shrunk in my spot, sinking into the tiles with a blank mind, eyes like empty holes staring at the floor.

_What did it feel like to be fucked in the mouth by Eric Cartman?_

I dragged my legs heavily to the sink and slipped the tap on, the water, fast and aggressive, and freezing. I shoved a handful of that ice-cold water into my mouth, gargled and spat out, gargled and spat out. It wasn't to get rid of the horrible taste of my vomit, no. If anything, that strong acidic taste that burned my mouth almost numb, helped.

I tilted my head hopelessly to the side and my eyes spotted the soap, pink and pearly liquid welcoming me with a gentle voice. I accepted. I aggressively pumped a mountain of that liquid into my hand and shoved it into my mouth, not too careful to swallow it, and scraped every inch of my mouth with the pearly goodness. I couldn't think. The only urge and desperateness inside me was to get rid of the feeling of Eric inside my mouth, get rid of his taste, the sensation.

I spat and coughed and gargled a few more dozen times even though my mouth had gone completely numb. With shaking hands I turned the tap shut and dragged my eyes up, staring pathetically into the mirror, and saw my reflection looking back at me just as pathetically.

Condemn me with disgust and disappointment— I sobbed.

Humiliation— I thought I was so past that. Then what was this that I felt? The walls closing in on me? Air slowly thinning away? It was like I wasn't a human anymore, I was stripped of my right to be.

I thought I was dying. I really did.

.

My legs took me without any orders from my brain. I rolled down the stairs and sprinted through the hallway, desperate— for something, I didn't know what. I just knew that I couldn't go back to class, not after what had happened.

The main doors flung open and I tumbled out into the snowing outside. The cold felt like it instantly froze my tears as they dropped out of my eyes, but that didn't happen. My feet stopped when the doors shut behind me and I looked into the silver sky, thick and heavy, yet the snow falling from it was so soft and quiet. It invited a few more tears out of me, but I swiftly rubbed them away and began walking again, away from the school. And then I saw smoke.

A soft breath spread light clouds of smoke into the air, and thankfully, I noticed him before he noticed me, giving me the time to rub my face, making sure there were no more tears on my skin.

'What are you doing here?'

He was leaning against his small orange truck, a cigarette in hand that looked so warm— the brightly lit red on the stick's end seemed like the only colour in that monochrome scene of snow. But when my voice sank into him and he lifted his head, there was suddenly icy blue that glowed with the light.

'Oh, so you're talking to me now?'

He shone his icy eyes through his scruffy, light blond hair. Nothing sparked inside me, not one speck of emotion toward his sarcasm. My eyes looked at him blankly, and then my feet began to walk away.

'Hey, wait!'

But his sudden change of voice stopped my legs, and when I turned to face his eyes again, they were looking at me with a small storm inside those orbs. —A storm of confusion, and slight… need?

'What are you doing here?' He asked my question I gave to him, adding his own small touch. 'You don't have a free now, do you?'

My throat opened up to swear at him, but the words died down on my tongue before I could open my mouth to speak. Instead, my shoulders slumped in exhaustion and resignation.

'I don't know…' my voice murmured, as softly as the sound of the snow falling onto the ground.

Silence followed. I don't know why I didn't ignore him and move my legs to walk away as I usually did. But I stayed put, looking at the ground covered in layers of pure white snow as more frozen fluff was added to the collection.

'Hey, do you want to go somewhere?'

I took my eyes off the white ground to stare up at his icy-blue ones.

'Don't you have class?'

It wasn't a literal question. I was asking him why the fuck he would think of such a thing. But my voice was so blank, without the venom I usually put in when I talked to him, and that was enough to lighten his moods.

He shrugged, 'I was going to leave anyway. We have sex ed next, and trust me, there is nothing I need to learn in that department.'

I shouldn't have been amused, but I sniffed a small laugh. While I told him that everything had changed, he still acted as though nothing had, at least as if _he_ hadn't have. And I silently smirked that he really hadn't changed.

The footprints that led to me suddenly changed its course, and I dug my feet into the snow in the other direction, towards Kenny.

'Sure.'

My footsteps continued until I was only a step away from him. He gave me a soft smile, with such brightness being contained into that small lift of the lips. It almost made me feel warm. Almost.

'So,' he said once I seated myself in the passenger seat, and he flew the door shut on his side as quickly as possible, careful not to bring in as much cold air as possible, 'Where do you want to go?'

My lips parted, but then they shut instantly, reconsidering my answer as the most ridiculous answer there could be. But still I opened my mouth again, to say that ridiculous answer, my most wanted destination that flashed in my mind.

'The sea.'

'…Huh?'

I lifted my eyes to meet his round, confused ones, and I repeated without blinking.

'I want to go to the sea.'

He blinked, now troublingly, but I kept my eyes blank and motionless.

'Ah— why?'

Now I blinked. In fact, I closed my eyes exhaustingly and sank deep into the chair of Kenny's small truck, sighing softly.

'I want to see the endless water. Something great, like the horizon.' I wanted to feel free.

It seemed like such a nice idea, such a nice fantasy, to see the horizon, something I missed when living in frozen mountains. But that was exactly what it was: a fantasy. It would have taken days to drive to the sea, just plain impossible. But as I sank into Kenny's chair and imagined the never-ending blue, the straight line of the horizon, the thought was nice.

'Okay.'

The engine roared to life and I shot my eyes wide open in confusion. Kenny was pulling his truck out of the parking, and I just stared at him blankly as he did it, poking his tongue out in excitement and determination.

'Okay- what?' I asked stupidly, 'Where are you taking me?'

He shot a quick glance towards my direction with a wide smile.

'To the sea.'

It was only too obvious that he wasn't really taking me to the sea— he wasn't that insane. But still I didn't open my mouth to accuse him. He seemed so bright, so confident, so…warm, that it made my petty words evaporated from my mind.

The drive went on for three hours, and I didn't say a word to him. He tried to start up a few light conversations, but after the first seven times of wasted trials he finally gave up and shut his mouth. For a second I thought he would instantly reach out to turn on some music, but he didn't, to my surprise. So it was just me and him, and the rolling truck.

'Hey Kyle, we're here.'

It was so calm and relaxing, so far away from everything that I was really close to unconsciousness. In that car it felt like the deepest I had slept in days, and I had only closed my eyes and sank into the silence of the driving truck. But Kenny's soft voice fluttered my eyes open, and through the window I was resting my forehead on, all I could see was blue.

'Well, it's not exactly the sea but— you know. I thought it would be a good substitute.'

But his words were hardly reaching my ear. With an occupied mind, I automatically shut the door behind me and dug my feet in snow, staring at the wide-open white, white, white. My legs moved towards it, I don't know what I was thinking, but I didn't stop until a hand pulled me by the shoulder.

'Dude, watch it, the lake starts here.'

'But it's frozen.'

He gave my empty face a troubled frown and glanced towards the largest natural lake in Colorado, now with a patch of ice and snow covering its surface. But before he could do anything, I took one step forward, ignoring his voice of panic.

'It's dangerous!'

'It's fine Kenny.'

I took another step and another to prove my point, until I was walking to the centre of the lake.

Blue and white, mixing together to make the most wonderful gray you could ever imagine to exist. And I was in the centre, with my burning red hair and long, baggy cream coat. I looked to the side, and now Kenny was beside me, with his bright orange jacket and washed-out blond hair. When he looked back at me, his icy-blue eyes were exactly the mixture of the blue sky and white snow we were stepping on.

'Now it's not dangerous.'

He smiled warmly, sending heat straight in my chest that rushed, strangely, to my cheeks. I didn't know how that could have happened. A second ago I was empty and cold with no emotion possible to rush through my veins. But with those words and his smile, I blushed— strange, that.

Instantly, I averted my eyes and continued to walk with my head down, as quickly as possible before he could get a glimpse of my blushed face. But stupidly enough, my aggressive feet hit the ice underneath the snow, and simply enough, I slipped.

'Wah!' The second I yelled that embarrassing voice, warm hands caught me, holding my panting self. The heat was now impossible to hide in my face, so I squirmed in Kenny's hold and yelled, 'Let go of me!'

'But you'll fall again.' His voice was slightly worried, with a hint, no, down right playfulness and amusement dominating his smile as he held me secure.

Those words entered my head, and I thought through them contently, calming down slowly as I did. I got my breath back, and my normal temperature back, and I slid out of his grip, asking myself why I was so worked up for that short minute.

When I arrived at the centre of the lake, I dropped myself onto the ice and snow, cross-legged. The sudden action startled Kenny; I felt it when he jolted as my ass hit the ground, but I didn't say anything, and he decided to keep his mouth shut too.

There was no horizon, not like the sea, so I stared into the distant mountains frozen with beautiful white and blue ice. We must have stayed in that stance for an hour or so, me sitting on the ice and Kenny standing beside me, both of us staring at the silver mountains. And when I thought, any minute now, those mountains would begin to dye into the colour of deep scarlet red, like flaming snow, I opened my mouth and voiced my thoughts.

'I'm cold.'

The snow had long since melted around me, and my legs were numb from the hour of sitting in ice-cold damp pants.

'Should we go now, then?'

Without looking at Kenny, I nodded once, slowly and deeply.

'Okay,' he said. The mountains were beginning to change its colour.

The drive home began quietly, and I hoped that it would stay that way. I leaned my numb forehead against the window and stared out silently, watching the forever-continuing scenery of mountains. I was hardly aware of my surroundings, I was hardly aware of myself. My mind was perfectly blank, just observing the subtle changes of the colours of the sky that dyed the tips of the mountains. I wasn't even aware of Kenny, the boy who had driven me three hours to see the Grand Lake. I know, I was selfish— but what could you expect?

'So…' The blond boy broke the silence, although barely prickling a nerve in my ear. But my mouth knew how to respond.

'So, what?' My voice was empty, dull, even slightly irritated by the interruption of silence and my blank mind. But Kenny didn't seem to notice.

'So, are you going to tell me why you wanted to go to the sea?'

I didn't know if he was asking that just to make up a conversation or from actual curiosity. But his voice was his usual, light-Kenny voice that seemed like he didn't actually care, so I just shut my eyes, more openly rejecting interaction.

'Dude, it's none of your business.'

'No, I think I have the right to know,' Kenny scoffed. I couldn't tell the hurt that he tried to hide under that small laugh.

'Well, you don't. So would you just shut up, please?' I was biting my words, with venom.

'Hey! I drove you three hours to get to that damn lake! You could at least brighten your mood up and thank me a little!'

'Did I fucking ask you to? Fuck, if I knew that you only did that to get me to thank you then I wouldn't have come with you! Would you just shut the fuck up and drive without bickering your stupid mouth off!'

'Dude,' Kenny sighed aggressively as I sank myself into coldness, 'Kyle, what is wrong with you? Ever since I came back you've not been acting like yourself at all! I don't know what I've done, hell, I've been trying to be the nicest to you, and all you've been doing is ignoring me or insulting me! You know what? Right now, _You Are Just Like Cartman!_'

A shock froze my body painfully and I shot my eyes wide open in response to those words. My arms thrust through the air and my hands shot to the steering wheel where Kenny's hands were, and twirled the wheel with all my might, every inch of my body burning with rage.

'FUCK!'

Kenny shouted and bashed his foot against the breaks in an instant second before the truck could crash into anything, letting the tires squeal underneath us and burn its trail into the asphalt. The truck stopped horizontally in the middle of the road. We were extremely lucky that there were no other cars, or we might have been dead. But the shock that rushed through both our hearts were strong enough to kill a small pony. Our breaths were heavy and loud, excruciatingly so. Kenny couldn't blink as his eyes stayed glued on the ahead, while I kept my face dug into my twisting arms.

A second later, I almost heard the fire suddenly igniting in Kenny's head.

'What the fuck did you think you were doing!' He screeched, gripping onto my shoulders and shaking me as if to wake me up from a crazy nightmare.

Without looking at him, I parted my lips ever so softly and mumbled three words.

'What?' Kenny yelled, having trouble controlling his voice, still from shock.

Now the fire finally ignited in me. I swang my head up and glared my blazing green eyes into his icy-blues and opened my mouth nice and wide, anger, rage dominating every single part of me.

'I said Don't You Fucking Touch Me!' I screamed and flung myself out of his grip and tumbled out the door as desperately quick as possible. I was enraged, I was disgusted, I was distraught. I couldn't stand to be anywhere near that ignorant blond. Not after what he said…

My feet kicked the asphalt, angry breaths huffing ireful white clouds into the air as I walked as quickly and aggressively as possible. When Kenny's orange truck followed beside me slowly, I only increased my pace.

'Kyle, dude, what's wrong?'

I could tell from his voice that the fire inside him had been blown away, but the fire inside me was still burning like a bushfire.

'Was it something I said?' His voice was worried, confused, almost desperate. But I didn't care.

'Leave me alone!'

My vision was still burning with red, but Kenny's voice was calm and soft.

'Kyle, come on. Just- get in the truck.'

'No!'

He sighed, but continued.

'Dude, don't say that—'

'Just!' I interrupted, 'Get the fuck away from me!' the words screamed out of me again.

The truck roared readily.

'Fine!'

And Kenny pressed the accelerator, spitting out that one word before he did.

The wind that flew past with the small orange truck instantly blew out the fire inside me, as if it was just that easy. The roaring of the orange truck slowly disappeared into the distance as it turned around the bend, running away through the road surrounded in trees covered in cold white.

And then I noticed, that I was abandoned.

No. Don't victimise yourself Kyle. You pushed him away. And now you were left in the middle of nowhere, an hour drive from your hometown surrounded in the white of snow and sky, because of yourself. Slowly, the freezing air seeped through my coat and shirt and sent a strong shiver through my body.

I wondered how long it would take for me to walk home. A day?

I didn't even let out a sigh as I looked at the road ahead, twisting around the bend and deeper into the forest. This was all my fault anyway; I deserved it. If I froze to death walking my way home, I would deserve it. And maybe I even wanted it.

The next time I looked at the road ahead, my eyes were betraying the thoughts in my head. My vision was blurred, filling up with water. I had never felt so alone in my life. And that was strange, considering how much I had gone through in terms of secrets and isolation over the past year. I didn't think that being driven away by Kenny would hurt so much.

But I didn't make a fuss of it. I just dropped my eyes right back onto my feet, and began moving them with a ponderous gate. I would be okay, I told myself, but even if I weren't, what would it matter? My blurry vision slowly became clearer as my mind began to numb, the only thing registering in my mind being the movement of my legs.

It took Kenny two seconds to make it around that bend; it took me four minutes.

When I made it though, I finally took my eyes off my feet, and my eyelids began to widen apart as I saw the small orange truck parked on the side of the road, with its owner leaning against the side, looking at me.

When our eyes met, he leaned off his truck, and turned to face me with a heavy gaze. That is when my vision decided to blur again, my face chose to heat up, and I looked down, grinding my teeth to try and hide all the burning emotions leaking out of my eyes.

Unconsciously and extremely clumsily, my awkward feet began to speed up its pace as I slowly closed the distance between me and Kenny.

His lips parted, but no words came out. His eyes widened, but he wasn't looking at anything. He couldn't move an inch as the gap between us closed. I didn't know what he was so shocked about, but I didn't know why I was so emotional either.

Even when we came so close that our heat radiated against each other, I didn't stop. It wasn't until I rested my forehead onto his chest, quivering slightly with a shredded mind, that I finally relaxed and let my shaking voice leak out of me.

'I am not like Eric Cartman.'

That was all I said, tears threatening to fall out of my eyes as my body continued to vibrate against Kenny. I felt his body relax slightly at my words though, as if just realising what he had done wrong. But he didn't say anything more either.

A warm hand, long slender fingers gently slid against my cheek and cupped my jaw, tilting my face up with the most delicate movements you could ever imagine a person to create.

The next second our lips connected. He kissed me with his delicate movement being overpowered by his emotions, but I could still tell that he moved with all the gentleness he could muster. Just one brief connection, and it was as if I could feel the storm of emotions twirling inside him, the desperateness he was holding in, in order to keep the connection as soft as possible. But it was still burning.

The connection ended with a quiet gasp of breath, his warm hand still resting on my cheek.

'What was that for?'

The tears had instantly dried up in my eyes and I was looking up at him with a bewildered stare. When his eyes opened, they continued to widen until he looked like a startled owl, and we entwined our unmoving gazes together, lost in this subtle explosion of emotions. Mostly though, it was confusion.

Finally, his eyes relaxed, and his mouth moved to speak.

'I don't know.'

A soft breath of wind blew past us, cold, but gentle, that only combed through our hair before flowing away. The silence continued for that slow moment.

'Why did you do it?'

Although I was strangely calm, there was this unexplainable fear inside me as well, I don't know why.

Kenny's mouth opened once, then closed to reconsider his answer, and opened up again.

'I don't know…'

But his eyes said something different, something foreign, something so complex even I couldn't solve it with my straight-A brain.

I leaned up, and pressed our lips together again, for a shorter time, just to exchange the heat. And then a thought inside me emerged like a hungry tiger, drawing in slowly and quietly.

You may hate me for this, and if you do, I completely understand. I detest myself for it, actually. But without doing it, I maybe wouldn't be here right now.

When I drew my lips back, I whispered. I had found a source of control, a source of salvation of my own sense of self-right, and it was right in front of me.

'Take me…'

He blinked his wide eyes finally. But to me, my words seemed much more sincere than I wanted them to appear. As if they came from the pit of my heart.

'Huh?' He said, confused.

Take me Kenny. Far away.

So this time when I kissed him, I lingered for longer, pressing myself against him slightly, and worked my tongue the way I was taught by Eric only too many times, the way that was nailed into me.

'I said take me Kenny. You know what that means.'

I saw the colour in his eyes change, I felt the tightness in his muscles twitch and I heard the saliva in his mouth being pressed down his throat. He knew what it meant, and there was some hesitation inside him, but not enough to push me away.

We slipped into his truck in silence, and maintained that peaceful sound throughout the journey, until we reached his house.

.

His one-room apartment was cold. No installation was obvious and he didn't have an air-conditioner; the only source of warmth being the kerosene heater placed in the one room of his apartment. He opened the door of his apartment with fiddly hands as I waited silently behind him.

Once he opened the door and turned the light on, I could see all that he had in that one large room. The kitchen was in the far left corner with dirty dishes still in the sink, beside, there was a small door that I guess led to the only other room in his apartment: the bathroom. On the far right there was a large window that led to the small balcony outside, plain curtains securing the privacy of the room. The bed, if you could call it a bed, was just a large mattress on the floor, unmade with the pillows squished up to the side along with the blanket.

'Sorry, it's kind of messy,' Kenny muttered, picking up his clothes and throwing them into the bathroom. I didn't say anything. Kenny was a messy guy, he tend to have all his belongings scattered everywhere, presented to everyone. But this apartment had nothing. Sure he had an unmade bed, dirty dishes in the sink and some clothes on the floor but that was it. He didn't even have a television or a single bookcase, or even a goddamn table. His apartment was so empty, that you would doubt if someone living there at all. It gave me a sense of loneliness and sorrow that intensified the coldness of his home.

While I was lost in the shock of observing his empty apartment, Kenny continued to attempt to clean his room, which was quite ridiculous, actually.

'You don't have to try and hide your messy habits to me Kenny. I'm not a girl you're trying to impress,' I said, making him stop in his tracks. He quickly released the tension in his shoulders along with a deep sigh.

'Sorry,' he mumbled, 'force of habit.'

As I watched him blush slightly and tilt his head away, I finally noticed how nervous he was. Funny… I didn't think that a playboy like Kenny would get nervous before having sex.

Slowly and quietly, I walked up to his back and rested my forehead on his shoulder. I could feel Kenny jump slightly at the unexpected contact, but he soon relaxed and tilted his head down. When I flowed my eyes up to his, I still saw some nervousness in his eyes, but the other emotions stirring inside was much more immense, and intensified the shine in his icy-blue eyes. Our noses were touching and our breaths were caressing each other's cheeks. We were so close, it only took Kenny a small lean to connect our lips.

His lips were thin and slightly edgy, but his kiss was extremely soft, and almost melting. I never knew that a kiss could be so caring, and not an act of violation for domination. His lips moved and mine moved so naturally soft, until the burning emotion began to kick in, and the kiss became more of a passion.

He slowly pushed me backwards as we kissed, turning the light off on the way, until I finally fell onto his unmade bed.

'You know, I've never done this with a guy before…' Kenny murmured as he crawled on top of me. His head was a few inches above mine, but I could still feel the warmth of his heavy breaths.

'But you've done it plenty of times with girls, right?'

He tensed for a second, I don't know why.

'Yeah,' he placed his hand on my cheek, and slid his thumb gently across my cheekbone and asked, 'have you?'

I felt a strong vibration against my thigh and jumped at the sound of classical music filling the dark room. I sat up, sliding Kenny off of me as I slid my phone out and flipped it open, alarmed at the number of texts that filled the screen, realising that it was a Monday, before answering the call.

'Hey Stan,' I noticed Kenny flinch at that name, but ignored it.

'Hey dude! Jesus Christ man, why didn't you answer any of my texts! Wendy and I were waiting for you for like, an hour. I had to endure listening to Wendy nag!'

'Sorry,' I slipped the word in, hardly feeling any emotion towards Stan's complaining of his girlfriend. There was an automatic act in my brain to cut off emotion when I heard his girlfriend's name come out of his mouth.

'Dude, just- tell me next time you ditch, okay?'

'Yeah…Hey Stan, can you pretend that I'm staying over at your place tonight?'

He paused before responding, 'Yeah, sure but— dude, why are you panting?'

'What! No I'm not!' I gasped, holding my mouth self-consciously.

'Dude, whatever. Just, tell me tomorrow why and what the fuck you were, or are, doing tonight. Are you asking me to call your house and tell your parents as well?'

'Yeah… That would be great, thanks. See ya.'

I placed the phone on the floor with a blank mind, forgetting for a second that I was on Kenny's bed, with its owner sitting in front of me, watching me silently.

'You wanted to know if I had done this with anyone before—' Kenny blinked his eyes to my words, returning to reality, and we met each other's eyes before I continued, 'No, I haven't.'

He pressed his lips together tightly, before separating them.

'Are you sure you want to do this?'

I knew he was indicating the person who had just called me, and if I don't lie, then my heart slightly sank at that question. But my mind was made up.

'If I am sure that I want to lose my virginity to you?' I chuckled softly without amusement, 'Absolutely.'

And I _was_ absolutely sure. I knew that the worst was inevitable, if I kept this up with Eric. Sooner or later, he would rape me, if I didn't tell anyone now. And I knew, I would definitely not tell. The only thing I could do now, before he ripped away every fragment of control away from me and completely stripped away my rights to be human, the only thing I could do was to make sure that at least one thing, my virginity, wouldn't be taken away and that I would give it to someone with my consent. In other words, this was my last struggle for control.

I was pushed back into the bed again and was soon met by Kenny's lips. My lips were brief this time, before he moved down to my neck, making a soft sound emit from my throat. My legs moved automatically, sliding my thigh against Kenny's hip and leg as I pulled him down to kiss me deeply on the mouth.

'Dude, I can't believe this is your first time- who taught you to kiss like that?' He muttered through heavy breaths but I ignored him, and he didn't really linger for an answer. His lips moved as he began to rub our crotches together, making me notice the erection inside our jeans. He travelled his kisses down from my lips, my jaw, my neck to my collar bone, as his hand began to travel up my shirt—

'Stop!' I gasped when I felt his hand move across a bruise. Kenny stopped and looked up at me, confused as to why I stopped him taking off my top. I panted, my heart beating a little too quickly in shock, before I continued, 'we can do it without taking my top off, right?'

He blinked, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, and frowned.

'Why can't I take your top off?'

—Because I don't want you to see what Eric has done to me…

'I just- don't want you to, okay?'

His eyebrow twitched at my words, his frown edging deeper into his lips. Without warning, he pulled down my undone jeans along with my underwear and threw them to the floor aggressively. I gasped at the sudden coldness attacking my crotch and attempted to curl myself up before Kenny pushed in between my legs, keeping my semi-erected cock exposed.

He was frustrated, irritated, even angry, but I couldn't blame him. I asked him for so much with so little explanation.

Suddenly completely embarrassed, I tilted my burning face to the side as the only way to hide myself as Kenny sat there separating my legs. But as he watched me slightly shake, I felt the tightness in his muscles loosen and his movements became gentle again.

I listened quietly, hugging my sleeved arms as I listened to Kenny lean to the side to check his bedside draw.

'Kyle, I have lube but I don't have any condoms. Do you want me to go get some?' His voice was frustrated but I didn't care. I doubt that Eric would be bothered to put on a condom when he would rape me, and I didn't want him to be the first one.

'I don't care Kenny. Just fuck me.'

And he did, and for a first time with a guy, he surely knew what he was doing. I could tell with every movement that he was trying to reduce the pain as much as possible. Strange— to have experienced such aggression only a few hours ago, and to be held with such warmth and gentleness now. But that was just it to my brain— strange. Nothing more, nothing less. There might have been something missing in my brain that was for registering human kindness.

I did feel pleasure though, if you must know. It hurt like no other, but when Kenny hit something inside me, it was almost like an electric shock of pleasure that shot straight through my body that came out of my mouth as strange voices. I had to crawl my fingers into his back to keep myself in reality. For the first time with a guy, Kenny surely knew what he was doing. He was thrusting his dick up my ass, while my dick was being pumped in his hand, and he kissed me at the same time. Whoever said that guys couldn't multitask?

I released in his hand first, cum dripping from his palm onto my shirt. But I couldn't care less. Kenny's thrusting continued to strengthen and deepen, which continued to shoot pleasure through me, until he finally came inside.

We were frozen for a minute, with him still on top of me and my arms still around his shoulders, panting against each other and feeling our cum stick to each other's clothes— it was messy. But when we slowly drew our faces up and met each other's eyes, feeling our warmth mix together as one, I silently found out. I found out why they called this "making love", even though, I thought, there was no love between us.

We both disconnected our gazes at the same time, and Kenny slowly drew his limp dick out of me. I was staring to the side as the coldness attacked me, but my mind was preoccupied.

I just had sex with Kenny McCormick.

And it was just after I talked with Stan. Me, the one who didn't kiss Matthieu because I didn't want to betray my unrequited feelings for Stan, had just been fucked by Kenny, the playboy, McCormick. Just like I used Bebe's feelings a year ago, I had just used Kenny.

But what was this sense of numbness inside me, like I had just suffered complete defeat, but just couldn't care?

We both took a shower- not together- in his small bathroom. When I came back in his clothes, the bed was made enough to snuggle into.

'My clothes are a bit big, huh?' He grinned, watching as I flapped his long sleeves around and dragged the hems of his pants behind. But I didn't care. Everything I wore was long and baggy anyway.

I snuggled into his bed, now desperate for the warmth that I had lost, as Kenny waited to enclose his arms around me. It was warm, so I let him do it, but didn't think so much of the comforting gesture.

We were a few breaths from falling asleep when he asked me.

'So, what now?'

I paused for a long second, but with a cool mind that lacked much thought. And as I felt his warmth surround me I answered.

'We pretend it never happened.'

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for R/R! I love you guys. And don't have unprotected sex.**


	12. Chapter 12

Step nine: Hold close

_Chapter Twelve: Blue Fade_

During those days, I didn't know if I was a good person or if I was a bad person. I felt a strange sense of righteousness when I didn't tell anyone of my suffering. But at the same time, when I hated people for not noticing my pain I loathed myself like no other, and that, gradually, became all the time.

When I was with Kenny, I felt like I was the worst person in the whole world and I hated myself for it. But strangely, when I was with him, I didn't care.

.

Deep down, I think I knew what emotions Kenny held for me, but I used the fact that he didn't tell me to pretend that they didn't exist.

Despite what I had said to him the previous night, when I woke up, it was to the smell of bacon and eggs and the gentle sun leaking through the gap of his plain curtains to cast a bright line of ray across my torso.

'Good morning sunshine!'

Kenny's bright voice called as he saw me leaning up from his bed.

'Dude, is that bacon?' I asked with slit eyes still blurry from sleep. I almost heard him drop his jaw to the ground at my words in realisation.

'Fuck! I forgot pigs were against your religion!'

It was so warm in his room. I don't know whether that was because of the whole whiteness and openness of the place, or whether it was because spring was around the corner- no scratch that, it was still February- but nevertheless, everything was so bright.

I got up onto my wobbly legs and pondered my way to the kitchen corner where Kenny was stressing about the bacon, and watched the bits of meat sizzling in his frying pan.

'It's okay. I'll eat it.' I muttered plainly, walking away from the chef.

'What!' His voice was shocked, totally and utterly confused.

'I said I'll eat it. It's fine.'

He came trotting to the bed I was sitting on a few seconds later with two plates filled with bread, egg and, wait for it, bacon. He handed one to me nervously, but I took it nonchalantly.

'Are you sure—'

But I had already put a small piece of pig into my mouth. My mom probably would have killed me, but strangely, a sin such like eating pig, if you even call it a sin, didn't even prickle the tiniest bit of guilt inside me. I mean, was God going to punish me now? I doubted it. I doubted everything. The last time I doubted my religion and the existence of God was when I was when I got a haemorrhoid and couldn't go to the toilet. So you could imagine how I felt now.

I could feel Kenny's shocked gaze on me, but what was more uncomfortable was having such a greasy bit of food being pressed down into my stomach. I had a little bite of everything, and then handed the plate to Kenny.

'Thanks. I'm full now.'

He took it still with blank eyes staring at me still. But then as if something flashed inside him, his eyes jolted back to consciousness.

'Dude, I've always wanted to tell you this but— you need to fucking eat more!' and he pressed the plate back into my hands with a fake glare burning his eyes. 'Why don't you eat?'

I took another bite of the bread and glanced at him.

'I'm eating.'

He huffed, and started eating his own food angrily like a wild dog feeding on scraps of food it found in a bin. But there was no way I was going to tell him why I always had no appetite.

I went to school in Kenny's clothes but no one noticed, even as they saw me jump out of Kenny's truck no one commented; no surprise there. No one noticed what I did, or noticed me in general anymore for that matter— except for Stan. He looked at us with jumpy eyes filled with pleasant surprise.

'So, you guys have sorted thing's out, huh?' He said with a wide grin, flinging his arm around my shoulder as the three of us walked to our lockers. 'Don't forget, you owe me an explanation for last night.' He murmured into my ear, his breath slightly ticklish.

'Yeah, I know.' Although I also knew that that explanation was going to be a lie.

'You know, when I heard you panting on the phone and asking me to lie to your parents about where you were, I suspected that you were with a girl.' Stan said to me later that day, leaning down into my ear so that no one else could hear his voice, especially his girlfriend that was standing next to him curiously.

My heart jolted as he whispered those words into my ear. Whether it was from the intimacy, or if it was from his words that were only a step away from the truth, I don't know. Probably both. Whatever it was, I froze wide-eyed as he chuckled and scrunched up my red curls.

'Aww— cute little Kylie has finally lost his virginity— I thought.' He laughed as my faced burned from unexplainable reasons, and he scrunched up my hair again. 'I'm just kidding Kyle! I know you're too innocent for that! I'll wait until you get married for celebrations!'

A toneless laugh escaped my throat. It frizzled up on my lips and died in the air.

The good thing was, was that Kenny was used to acting like nothing had happened. He wasn't clingy, or extra friendly or anything. _If_ anything, he was almost too dry. But the venom I had towards him had drained away over the night. It doesn't mean that I was friendly to him, I just didn't ignore him and flinch away from his physical contact anymore. Not many people noticed this either— they didn't notice anything.

Except for one, apart from Stan.

'You seem more friendly with Kenny now… What happened?' Eric murmured to me quietly with a sharp, thin voice that threatened to cut me with his tongue that was sliding down my neck.

I didn't answer, too busy shutting everything out of my brain in order to cut off Eric's sensations crawling through my body. But the consequence to that was a thick hand squeezing my stomach, fingers digging into bruises. The pain made me flinch, and bring my mind back to full consciousness.

'I only accepted that— that was three years ago…' The pain was evident in my voice and the grinding of my teeth in between words. 'I just- I need to move on—'

His eyes narrowed at my words, dangerously, almost with hatred. More than fear, those eyes sent confusion into me, because he didn't say anything; I didn't know why. Instead he gave me a punch in my gut and a kick in my back when I hit the ground. That was it, so I should have considered myself lucky.

Eric didn't like my befriending with Kenny; that much was obvious. But I didn't know why. Eric didn't necessarily have a sense of schadenfreude, well, he _did_ compared to the average person, but he was more of a sadist. _Much more_, of a sadist. He liked other's pains, more specifically my pain, to be inflicted by himself. So I didn't know why Eric hated watching me open up to someone, even though it was the slightest amount, to Kenny McCormick.

To be honest, by that time I wasn't the most popular person to hang out with. I tried to hide my misery, as desperately as possible, but quietness and sensitivity, almost bad temper had slowly crept onto my personality. I smiled, I laughed, but my mind was always somewhere far away that I'd miss out on some places I was meant to comment on or laugh at. Don't get me wrong, no one kicked me out of the group or be the slightest mean to me. It's just—it was like I turned into this burden of the group. It was the worst feeling, but I didn't have the courage to break myself away and be alone.

Ha, that would have given Eric all the time in the world wouldn't it?

But I _did_ break apart eventually, not to my choice. It was as if my friendship group was these people on a floating piece of ice stranded at sea. While everyone talked cheerfully on one side, I was on the other side, on the edge, distracted by my pathetic reflection in the water. And as I had my back on everyone, someone crashed their angry foot on the ice, right between me and my friends. A large crack appeared, and the ice split in two, with me on one piece and my friends on the other. And I slowly drifted away from them, all alone.

Just to tell you, it wasn't Eric that broke me apart from everyone. It was someone else, someone I would never have suspected.

'She told me that I have straight eyelashes,' Stan told me. I remember the conversation as clear as the lyrics to my favourite song. 'Long, but straight, like a plank,' he said.

I merely made some noise of acknowledgement in the bottom of my throat as I continued to flow my pen through my notebook. It was just me and Stan that Monday night, and I used that time to feel Stan's presence, his true innocence and kindness, which refreshed me with every second we were alone. If I sounded disinterested in the conversation he was making, it was only because I was using all my energy to focus on his voice.

It had been about a month since I had slept with Kenny, and I had noticed that my feelings for Stan hadn't changed one blink. In fact, it was really as if that night with Kenny had never happened. It was merely a fact in my mind that I never thought about.

'Kyle, are you even listening to me?'

'Mm-hmm…'

I was a millions miles away from registering his words, but I thought I felt Stan's stare on the side of my face.

'What?' I finally asked when his stare was becoming unbearable, making my heart feel like it had moved up to my head and was pumping blood straight into my face.

Stan was chuckling softly, content with himself as if he had just found a piece of the puzzle.

'It's nothing, it's just—' he began, 'You don't notice it normally because your eyelashes are red and hard to see, but— they are insane. So full and long. And they curl a lot, unlike mine.' He pushed my fringe out of my eyes to look at them more carefully for a second, unconsciously drawing his face closer, not noticing or ignoring the burning colour of my face.

He chuckled softly, breath warm and caressing my lips, 'is that a bit gay?'

And that was when Stan's bedroom door opened to let in his girlfriend.

I drew back from Stan's touch as quickly as possible, hoping that his girlfriend wouldn't notice my burning face caused by my intimacy with Stan, and the fact that we were so close that I could practically feel the heat of his lips brush against mine.

But Wendy didn't comment on anything, so I guessed she didn't notice.

'Hey boys, sorry I'm late, I got caught by a junior asking me La Crosse tips,' she said, sitting down beside Stan even closer to him than I was, if that was even possible.

Guilt was crawling into my chest. I don't know why, but it was when I was close to Stan, letting my emotions take over my thoughts about him, that I felt most guilty. Probably because Wendy was one of the kindest people I knew, and the best girlfriend Stan could have, and I knew the strong love that existed between them.

I couldn't take five minutes of it before I got up and said that I had to leave.

As I walked home, my heart was aching for the thought of next Monday. Stan said that he was busy that day and that we wouldn't be able to do our study session. I was fine with that, although I felt a little pity for it, until Wendy said that we should do a study session anyway, just her and me.

Wendy was a nice girl, interesting, funny and intelligent and it was a pleasure talking to her. But that next Monday, I didn't know if it was because we were so into our studying, but thing's between us were a little quiet.

Me? I was quiet because I always was around Wendy, and pretty much everyone else nowadays. When I was around her, all I could think of was Stan and my feelings for him. I would have this silently simmering guilt inside me, no matter how little it was, it was always there. Sometimes I didn't know how I was coping with it, it hurt, after all.

And that is why, I guess, I finally chose to talk to her.

'Hey, Kyle? How are things?' She asked me gently without taking her eyes off her textbook. But I could still feel her observing me.

'What things?'

'You know, life. I hope my best friend hasn't done anything bad to you again. She _can_ be a bitch sometimes.' She whispered with a cheeky grin and a wink, which naturally made me smile.

'Yeah, thing's are okay,' I answered, remembering the time she said that she trusted me and not her friend. Morals always came straight with her, and didn't let friendships blind her from the truth. I liked her for that. I really did.

'Are you sure?' But sometimes her observational eye could be inconvenient, like now when she could look past my words and see the misery lurking inside me. That was an ability her boyfriend didn't really have.

The sincere worry in her voice and her sad frown made my insides squeeze horribly. From guilt, yes, and from the excruciating need to tell someone about my pain. I didn't know that I had such an urge, but apparently, as I felt Wendy's warm chocolate eyes embrace me, I knew that I did.

So I decided to tell her one tiny little fragment of my misery.

'Wendy, I'm gay.'

'Oh?'

'Since before I went out with Bebe last year.'

'Oh…'

No, that wasn't it. That was just an introduction.

'Look, I don't want you to think deeply of this because I know all too well that you are together and I don't want to interfere with you guys because you two are the best people I know but—' I gulped, 'I like Stan.'

Her lips froze and silence came. The quietness became unbearable, but I waited like a defendant waiting to be judged.

'I'm sorry,' I said pathetically.

'No it's okay!' She gasped, quick to comfort me with shocked eyes. 'Sorry, I was just, a little surprised for a second. But it's okay.'

'It _is_?'

'Well, sure. I mean, you just said that you don't want to interfere with my relationship with Stan and I believe that. And besides…' a small, gentle smile rested on her lips, 'I know how much it hurts to have unrequited feelings. _You_ are the one who is suffering the most.'

Her kindness was unbelievable, and I couldn't have been more grateful for it. I felt the guilt slowly leak out of me, and instead I had this sense of mild salvation inside me. And it was all thanks to Wendy.

She left after that, with a smile and some words of comfort. She was like light to me, a person to truly admire.

Maybe that was why it had always hurt so much.

The air was flowing in and out of my lungs a little easier and lighter than usual. I could breathe comfortably. And I thought that I could go to sleep that night, easily for what felt like in a long, long time. And I would have, if it weren't for that text message I received at one o'clock at night.

"_Hey Kyle, are you awake?"_

It was from Wendy, which made the grumpiness from fatigue flash out of me like a snap in the head. And so I answered, _"Yeah."_

"_I was wondering if I could ask you a huge favour…"_

I didn't know why she didn't just tell me everything in one text.

"_Sure, what is it?"_

It took her a moment to send me the favour. I imagined her trying to phase her words, deleting and retyping and deleting again. It was, somewhat of a cute image, I guess.

"_I was wondering if you could come out to talk for a minute…"_

My heart dropped. I haven't had been out in the middle of the night since that incident in the city, and I didn't really want to pick up that habit again. My fingers moved along the buttons of my phone to punch in _"can't now. Can you wait 'till tomorrow"_, until they stopped mid-word when Wendy sent another text.

"_It's about Stan…"_

I was out the door two minutes later.

"_Where are you?" _I typed in as my legs moved swiftly through the midnight air without a direction.

"_I'm at the park, near the bus stop."_

You aren't meant to hear people's voices through their text messages, but strangely, I heard this sniffing, desperate voice when I received Wendy's texts. In the pits of my gut, I imagined that something had gone horribly wrong. Something horribly wrong between Wendy and Stan.

'Wendy!' I called as my white breaths shot into the frozen darkness of the night. She was standing all alone in the middle of the park, face dug into her scarf and her raven hair fallen atop of her eyes. But when she lifted her face in response to my call, I realised that those chocolate orbs were melted with tears.

'Kyle…' She said with the voice of an insect. At that second I reached her, and rested my hands gently on her shoulders as she looked at me with glistening eyes. 'You really came…' she said with surprise in her sorrowful voice.

'Of course I did! Now, what's wrong?'

She tried to settle her shaking voice through one deep breath, the white clouds glowing yellow under the flickering park lamppost.

'Do you mind… if we do this somewhere slightly more private?'

'Yeah. Of course— Anywhere.'

She smiled softly and told me to follow her.

'This is my family's storehouse. But we don't really use it since it's not right next to our house.'

What she had led me to was this small shed built at the side of town, near Stark's Pond. I sometimes noticed it when I walked by, but always thought that it was a public bathroom or something.

I was right behind her as we entered the storehouse almost like her shadow, so I didn't see what was inside until the door closed behind me.

'Hey, Wendy!'

We were welcomed into the storehouse by a bright, high-pitched voice— a familiar voice. I thought she said that we were going to someplace private?

'Did you bring him?'

'Of course I did.'

My heart thumped in an instinct of fear. The shakiness in Wendy's voice had completely disappeared in an instant, and was replaced by a dark seducing voice that came out of a cold smile.

Wendy moved to the side, her arms in a knot in front of her chest. And I was revealed to not one, but three people.

'Hey Kyle,' the high-pitched voice said, this time with soft seduction and a smile that showed her white teeth that glimmered with delight.

'Hi Bebe,' I gritted my teeth.

I moved my glaring eyes from my ex-girlfriend to the two people behind her, both taller than her by at least an extra head. Just over a year ago, those two guys punched me as a rapist to impress girls, and this time, I knew their names. David Corner with the short brown hair that stood up like spikes, and Jim Johnson with the greasy blond hair that you wouldn't want to touch.

'Wendy,' I called, voice firm as I kept my eyes on the three in front of me, 'I thought this was going to be private.'

'Oh well,' she moved behind me, in between me and the door. I turned my eyes to her as she sandwiched me between herself and the others, 'private enough,' she shrugged. Her brown eyes were not chocolate anymore, but sharp splinters that dug right through me.

I think that was the first time I saw her true colours.

As I was distracted by the discovery of Wendy Testaburger, completely forgetting about the three behind me, my arms were hurled and twisted back mercilessly, then I was pushed into the floor with a heavy body straddling me on my back to secure me on the floor.

'What the fuck!' I hurled under the body, 'Get off of me!'

'Stop moving you faggot!'

A fierce hand gripped my hair and squeezed my face against the freezing floor. So I chose to shut my mouth and watch as a long pair of legs stood before me, and slowly crouched down so that we were looking each other in the eye.

'I asked you to come here to talk, and kindly enough you did come. And so, I guess we should start talking, huh?'

'Do you mind me taking a slightly more comfortable position as I listen to you?'

'Oh don't worry Kyle. I only have a little I want to say.'

Contrasting greatly from her soft voice, her fierce hand gripped onto my hair and yanked my head up, forcing me to stare at her, eye-level, in threat to pull my hair out of my scalp. My glaring weakened with the pain, but hers only intensified.

'Don't fuck with me,' she said slowly and clearly.

'What do you mean—'

She tugged on my hair.

'I've known you liked Stan for a while Kyle, before you told me today. In fact, I've had a hunch for at least a year now, no, since we were in fucking junior high! The way you fucking flirt with him all the fucking time is only too obvious it makes me sick!' Her words were fast, like flashes of lightning shooting out of her mouth, 'I was always waiting for you to come out to me. I knew that you'd come out to me one day, if I acted nicely to you for long enough. And when you did? I knew that I'd have to crush you before you stole my man away from me.'

'What are you talking about Wendy, I told you… I don't want to steal Stan off you— I don't want to interfere with you two!'

'Yeah, that's what you said earlier, wasn't it? But if that's true, then why are you flirting with him all the fucking time? Why have you manipulated him to like you more than me? You were even going to kiss him last week if I hadn't arrived in time!'

'What the fuck are you talking about! I haven't done anything! And he doesn't like me more than you!' I hissed my words in pain as she tugged on my hair aggressively again.

'Oh yeah? Then why does he look at you the way he does? And chooses you over me? All the fucking time, you fucking liar!'

She let go of my hair and kicked me in the shoulder in fury. She was crazy, and delusional from anger. Stan never looked at me like anything, and it was only in emergency situations when he chose me over her.

'You know Kyle? There was only really one main thing I wanted to tell you tonight,' she began as I held my breath in pain and tried to curl myself up as much as possible under the guy's weight, 'Don't you ever even think of stealing Stan away from me again.'

She took a step away from me, as if she was done and satisfied. But in reality, she was so far away from satisfaction.

'So, what now?' Bebe asked curiously.

Wendy's smile widened.

'We threat him a little, and teach him a lesson. Boys?' She called at Corner and Johnson who looked at her stupidly, 'Mess him up a bit.'

It was the second time those guys bashed me, but this time was nothing like the first. Not just a friendly punch in the gut. This time when they finished, I was like a dying caterpillar curled up on the ground.

'Good,' Wendy said, nudging my head with her foot. And then she said the most horrifying words that you'd never imagine to come out of her mouth, 'Now rape him.'

My exhausted eyes shot wide as the two guys gaped at her in shock.

'What!' They sounded more shocked than me. Well, I guess that was understandable since it was such a foreign concept to them. But Wendy's words were still cold and emotionless.

'I told you. Rape this fucker.'

'Wendy, we're not raping him! That's just— that's just _so_ fucking wrong!'

'Oh, are you guys saying that you don't have a dick that can come in useful?'

'Wendy, we already bashed his head in. Isn't that enough?'

Wendy scoffed at them, then clicked her tongue as she looked down at me and muttered, 'You're lucky these guys are boneless wimps that don't have a cock.'

She then turned back to the guys and gave them a new order.

'Strip him.'

'Huh?'

'If you guys don't have the guts to rape him then I'll just have to humiliate him another way, now strip him!'

They were quick enough to take my clothes off. Probably scared that the wrath of Wendy would fall upon them. She was a girl, but she was one fucking scary girl, I tell you.

'What the hell?' Corner muttered as he raised my shirt. I could almost feel Johnson's face fall in confusion beside him.

Under my shirt, always hidden, were my deep and countless bruises and hickeys from that one person. But now, they were revealed for the first time.

Wendy's high-pitched, yet cold laughter echoed around the room.

'They're all hickeys! God Kyle! It looks like you've been getting it on with someone while trying to steal Stan away from me! Jesus, I never knew you were a fucking _slut_!'

She didn't comment on my bruises.

My shirt was quickly pulled off of my arms and over my head, swiftly followed by my shoes, pants and underwear. I thought I was going to freeze to death right then and there.

'What now?' One of the guys asked.

'Hey Kyle, say cheese!' Bebe crouched in front of me with a wide grin and took a photo of my dazed and exhausted face with her phone.

'What do we do now?' Wendy repeated in the distance, 'We're gonna do a little doodling—'

A sound of a thick cap being flicked off a marker entered my ears, and then I felt something thin flow against my back, threatening to tickle my painful skin.

'Fudgepacking whore?' Bebe laughed, apparently looking at the word that was written on my back. 'Here, let me have a go—'

She leaned beside my head, looking into my face again before she began to write.

'You know? I was actually relieved!' Bebe cheered merrily with her chuckling voice, 'I thought you didn't get it up for me because I wasn't good enough. That was a really depressing and confusing thought— But in reality, it was only because you were a cocklicking faggot! Ha!' There was no venom in her voice, just true, simple, amusement and delight, similar to that of a child.

She turned her smiling lips into a fake pout and pressed her finger playfully against my lips. 'It hurt me, nonetheless,' she batted her eyelashes sadly for a second, then her face returned to its previous cheerful and sunny state as she began writing on my back.

The similar sensation of a word being written on my skin returned, but my body was slowly drowning into numbness and my brain was turning soft and light in my skull.

That went on for a while, the pen being shared upon them to write stupid insults all over my body. They laughed and kicked me as they did. I was losing consciousness, and I think I did for some moments. I heard their voices above me, but nothing registered in my head. I was floating in a world far away, while my body was still lying and being tortured on the ground.

The writing finally stopped.

'Thanks for helping out tonight boys,' Wendy's voice said.

'Sure. Just remember, you owe us one for this.'

'Whatever. You enjoyed that!' Bebe chuckled. Their voices were fading away, and somewhere in my brain I understood that they were walking out the door.

But Wendy stayed a moment longer to tell me one last thing.

'I wouldn't stay close to Stan anymore if I were you. Feel lucky that I'm not locking you in here.'

Her heels hitting the ground echoed around me as she left, along with the heavy sound of the door closing behind her.

.

I don't know how long it was after when I scraped myself off that frozen floor. Maybe a few hours, maybe only a few minutes, I don't know. But when I dragged my heavy legs out into the night there was a breakage in the clouds and I could see a million stars in that small crack. It was strange how the world was so beautiful, even while it was filled with such misery and ugliness, namely me.

When I arrived back home and looked in the mirror, I didn't even bother to feel emotion. There was not so much damage on my face since I was facing the ground when they bashed me. Only one spot on the top of my right eye, where they kept hitting me onto the floor by my hair, was threatened to become a bruise.

I turned and tried to take a glimpse of my back. I could see black lines but I couldn't make out any words. I gave up and chose to take a shower. I was exhausted.

I wonder what I was thinking then. Probably nothing. I didn't think about what would happen the next day at school because, well, I thought it was all over after that and Wendy would be satisfied after that night.

She was crazy.

I had completely forgotten about it, but once when we were in elementary school she had caused the death of our beautiful substitute teacher Stan was taking a liking of. I had completely forgotten about it, but now, I guess that was her true colour, and it was something I shouldn't have forgotten about.

Nothing really changed the next day, nothing dramatic. I took my eye patch out and pretended that nothing was wrong, and no one asked me if anything was wrong. But that was no surprise. As I said before, no one really enjoyed talking to me anymore.

Well, a few people asked me.

'Dude, what's with the eye patch? Another fashion statement?' Stan chuckled as he watched me put my stuff into my locker.

'No,' I answered, 'my brother poked my eye out and I have to wear an eye patch to cover the creepy black hole where my eye used to be.'

He laughed as I closed my locker, and I remembered as I listen to his bright, cheery voice what Wendy had told me the previous night. But I ignored it. Being bashed wasn't exactly a new experience and she couldn't threat me with that to make me stay away from Stan.

But the next day, I had to give that a second thought.

It was a cold yet refreshing morning with the clouds clear and sun out in attempt to warm the freezing winter (mostly spring) air of South Park. It was a weather that kept me in a good mood, or a better mood than usual, at least.

I opened my locker with my swift fingers, and when the door creaked open, a small avalanche of palm-sized cards came tumbling out of my usually clean locker. Confusedly, I looked at the small mountain on the floor with narrowed eyes, and slowly, picked one piece of the palm-sized card up.

It was a photograph.

My heart nearly stopped.

The corridor was hollow and empty with only me standing by my locker, staring at that one photo in my palm without the ability to breathe. I didn't notice someone walking up to me, and I didn't notice him take a photo from the pile on the ground, as I was lost in shock.

'What the fuck is this?'

The dark, heavy voice said, snapping me out of my blank, empty state to shoot my round eyes up in shock.

'Eric…'

'What the fuck is this?' He repeated again, flicking the photograph with his thumb and finger.

It was as if I had just noticed the photo in his hand when he said that.

'No!' I yelled, lounging at him in attempt to grab the photograph, but only catching air as he moved out of my path. 'Give that back Eric!' I shouted in fury and horror squeezing my lungs.

He glanced up at me, and then back to the photo.

'I will give it back if you tell me what happened,' he grinned.

My rage simmered down into a sense of despair at the suggestion. Me telling Eric my suffering just so that he could feed on it for his pleasure?

'No.'

'Then I guess I'm keeping this.'

He twirled around on his feet, flicking the photograph in the air provokingly as he walked away through the empty hallway.

I froze there and stared with a blank mind at the hallway Eric just walked through. I stared at it for a couple of minutes. After a while, my eyes fell back onto the pile of photos still on the ground.

I kneeled, and picked one up, and then another and another.

'Hey Kyle.'

I looked up, and saw a pearly smile with icy-blue eyes looking warmly down on me.

'Hi Kenny.'

'What'chu doing?'

'Ah— nothing,' I muttered, quickly picking up the rest of the photos as Kenny began to lean down to see what they were. I gave him a quick salute and walked away to my class.

I couldn't let him see them.

I couldn't let anyone see them.

Later that day I told Stan that we couldn't continue our study sessions anymore. He looked confused, regretful, and dare I say even saddened by it. He was never good at hiding his emotions, and the way he showed liking for our study sessions and the regret for losing them made my heart cringe.

He may not have liked me in the way Wendy had assumed, but we were close friends. There was no doubt about that.

Terminating our study sessions wasn't enough though, I knew that. Wendy didn't want me close to Stan at all, my one true friend left to me now, except for the occasional Kenny. So I changed my phone and walked away from my friendship group all in all, because Stan was in that group, and if I stayed there, I knew that I wouldn't be able to help but be close to him.

At lunch I would sit outside at the back of the school, leaning against the brick wall where the snow would just miss my feet. That is why I always rolled myself up in layers of warm clothing for school, now that I only stayed inside for class. It was nice though, beautiful. And best of all, no one came here, not even Eric— it was so excluded, in a good way.

I sat there on my first day alone and slowly and quietly looked through all the photographs. The writing that I couldn't read on my back the other night was now so clear for me. They weren't that original though. "Fudgepacking whore", "faggot", "cocksucker", "kike", "fuckward", "slut", "die", "worthless", "rot in Hell", "tearoom queen" that was one of my personal favourites, tearoom queen, along with the arrow pointing to my arse that said "fuck me please". I don't know why, but I didn't throw them away. I kept them in the bottom draw of my desk at home, even though I didn't know then, that they would later come in handy.

Anyway, back at lunch, I would sit behind the school and munch on my apple, or whatever minimal amount of food that I ate, and listen to my music. Classical music matched perfectly with the white scenery with the snow covering the forest ahead. The beautifully delicate sound of piano filled with pathos, composed by Frederic Francois Chopin was my favourite. It still is.

Stan tried talking to me at the beginning, but my responses to his attempts at conversations were empty, quick and distant, because I tried to keep them that way. That was actually one of the most painful times though, when I subtly rejected his friendship.

I'm sorry Stan, I really am. I'm sorry I had to ruin our wonderful relationship with my pathetic feelings for you that I couldn't keep secret. I really am.

But even after such an event, my feelings for Stan didn't change. They were like my tattoo, I'll forget its existence, but it will always be there.

I didn't mind being alone. It felt better being myself while I was alone, than pretending to be something else while I was around other people. I wasn't always alone though, if you must know. And no, I'm not talking about Eric, although he did keep me company sometimes during lunch, but not enough to make people suspicious that he was with me.

No, I'm talking about someone else. If I follow my earlier metaphor, when I began to drift away on my broken ice all alone, someone from the other piece jumped over, from the other piece of ice onto mine to keep me company. He chose to stay with me and become my only friend.

I'm talking about Kenny.

He tried to pretend that he wasn't there because he felt sorry for me, but that was why I thought he was there. Every lunch he would go around to the back of the school and sometimes, when I wasn't anywhere else hiding from him, he would find me there. He itched to ask me questions and sometimes he did, like, why aren't you sitting with everyone and why are you always alone, and stuff like that.

I always kept quiet though.

But being alone came with one downside, my vulnerability. I was an outcast, almost, and that attracts some people. They were nothing compared to Eric, but they were annoying. Two or three of them, their names aren't important because they weren't important people. They were familiar faces though, I talked to you about them before.

Bullying, yeah, I guess you could call it that. No one really knew, though. But every school has their bullying, right? What? You didn't have bullying at your school? Well, you should have taken a better look. Somewhere where you weren't looking, there was always someone suffering from it. It was just that you didn't know.

But they didn't matter much, after all, they were not Eric. But they did help my school life worsen. I remember when they locked me in a toilet cubicle and splashed freezing water from above, drenching me and leaving me in there for an hour or so before I somehow climbed up the top. I don't know how they locked me inside a cubicle with an inside lock. I forgot.

It kinda hurt that my parents didn't notice my suffering, although I should have been completely past that. I silently, secretly wished that they would at least suspect something when I didn't smile as much as I did, or when I stopped going to the synagogue, stopped asking for lunch money, didn't do anything but study and be quiet and convinced them to not take me to Canada with them for the summer. I wonder if I was just a little too subtle.

So I spent the rest of the year by myself, and when I felt like it, the occasional company of Kenny, and my secret meetings with Eric.

My meetings with Kenny weren't subtle though. When we were together, I noticed that I was always a little too close to him, too close, that we were always touching. When we were together, I always felt his warmth, whether it was through our shoulders that were brushing against each other, or when I held onto him tightly when everything became too much to handle, although that was only occasional. I would sit in his lap, wrap my arms around him and squeeze as tight as I could with my face buried in his neck. He would fall into deep confusion when I did, but he would always accept my actions, and rest his warm hand on my back in response.

But the way I stayed so close to him when we were together almost proved how much I longed for human warmth. How much I longed for someone, although I wasn't aware of it.

Not many people noticed my closeness with Kenny though. Maybe it was because we were always at the back of the school where no one came. Only one person knew, one person who always watched me. I don't think I even need to say his name to you. But he didn't like it, although he hid it under his thin smile.

He showed it to me though, how much he didn't like it, on the first week of the summer holidays.

* * *

**A.N- Again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing guys. Your support means **_**so**_** much**.


	13. Chapter 13

Step 59: Don't forget

_Chapter Thirteen: Blue Requiem_

When the summer holidays began, it was as if I took my first breath in what felt like a long time. For about three months from now I wouldn't have to worry about anything! It took a lot of persuading, but my parents agreed that I could take care of myself for the time that they were gone.

Nearly three months of absolutely no one but myself… It wouldn't be lonely. I couldn't wait for it.

But I wouldn't be alone, although I didn't know that yet.

'Hey Kyle, bubbe,' my mom asked me the favour a day or so before they left for Canada, 'do you mind going into the city today?'

'Sure, ma. Why?'

'I was wondering if you could deliver this to Sophie,' she indicated the basket in her hands covered in one of her pretty tea towels.

'Sophie who?' I asked, taking the basket from my mother's arms.

'Sophie Rogers. It was her birthday a few days ago and I promised I would bake her a cake. But I don't have the time to deliver it to her because we're packing, so I was wondering if you could do it for me.'

Sophie Rogers, Sophie Rogers… I gathered up every speck of information in my brain on the name.

'Wasn't she like, a retired psychologist or something?'

'Yes Kyle, I'm surprised you remember that actually. You haven't seen her since you were this small,' she lowered her hand to around her knee.

Sophie Rogers, the retired psychologist… I hadn't thought much of psychologists or psychiatrists but there was a small flash of interest inside me of meeting the person.

'Okay. I'll deliver it to her.'

It was a long time since I had seen the old bus driver, which wasn't a bad thing I guess. It meant that I had stopped walking around in the middle of the night. I had to admit that I was a bit surprised to actually see him in daylight. So it was true that he was a vampire… But then he wouldn't be able to work in the daylight… I chuckled softly at myself.

'Hello,' I greeted with an invisible smile. He nodded back.

Sophie Rogers didn't actually live in the city centre, but on the edge of one of the small suburbs a few bus stops away. Her country-style house was surrounded with rich green trees, elegant ivy crawling up to decorated her house, and potted flowers that rested under the windows adding colour to her wide, one-story house. It was a nice place, such a different vibe from the other houses in the suburb or even my mountain town. It was a pleasure to knock on her welcoming front door.

It only took a few seconds for the front door to open and reveal a beautiful woman with brown hair, like waves in a ponytail, with a bright, friendly smile.

'Hello?' She said, keeping her smile in tact. To be honest, I was a little shocked. I was expecting an elderly woman with wrinkles as deep as her wisdom or something. Not a young, fit woman.

'Um…' I adjusted the basket of delivery in my hands, 'is this the Rogers' residence?'

'Yes it is.'

'Well, I was asked to bring this to Sophie Rogers. My mother baked it for her birthday,'

'Oh, yes, of course! Please, come in!'

Her bright voice pulled me in, somehow taking the basket politely from me and closing the front door at the same time.

'Nana! You have a visitor!' She called, placing the basket on the dining table before coming back up close to me. 'I'm Jessie by the way. Jessie Rogers. Sophie's granddaughter and caretaker,' she smiled again, taking my hand and shaking it energetically.

But even though Jessie shook my hand and smiled with such warmth and enthusiasm, the sound of creaking wheels in the distance distracted me, and I looked straight past her to where the sound was coming from.

'A visitor?' A soft voice, kind and caring, but fading slightly, rang in my ears like bells. 'How delightful.'

Her hair was white, but pearly rich, short and curled around her ears. She had wrinkles as deep as her wisdom, wisdom that anyone could tell that she had from the mere way that she had an everlasting smile and eyes that sparkled with every time she blinked. She was in a wheelchair though, lost of her ability to walk. A thin blanket covered her useless legs.

'And who might this young man be?'

'I'm Kyle Broflovski ma'am.'

'Oh, yes, Sheila's child. Well, how wonderful!'

She looked at me with a smile, in silence. She observed my face, my eyes, as if looking through them and into my mind. And as if accepting what she saw, she nodded.

'Would you like iced tea, or coffee Kyle?'

'Oh, yes, um, tea would be lovely,' already the two bright ladies' mouths were affecting me.

As Jessie went to make us a cup of tea, Sophie Rogers led me through the house and into, what looked like a small library. In a corner there was a television, a window on one side, a couch on the other and a coffee table, but everything else, all the other walls, were practically made of books.

'Please, sit down.'

I obliged automatically, but my eyes were already scanning through all the books that surrounded me. One side in particular caught my attention, and I noticed that the whole of those two large bookshelves were dedicated to books on psychology and psychiatry. I went up close to look at them more carefully.

'Interested in psychology?' Sophie Rogers asked gently.

'I guess…' I muttered a half-hearted response, 'I mean, I like it more than some of my other subjects and I like reading books on it… I read Carl Rogers recently—'

'Carl Rogers? Well, how nice. What did you think about it?'

'Well… To me it is really difficult to believe that everyone is inherently good. I mean, we are already born with our own personality. Sure, we can mould it through our lives and experiences, but we can't change who we are.'

'I like to believe we can.'

Sophie Rogers' words made me turn my head and stare at her kindly smiling face.

'I like to believe that we are all born with good nature. And that it is the choices that we make, that mould us into who we are. And that those choices are unlimited.'

I blinked a couple of times, and returned back to observing the books.

'You must be very stressed,' she said when our iced tea came. I froze the rim of the cup to my lips and listened to her words intently with a frozen heart. 'With school and friends… it is a very stressful time in life.'

Well, I don't have any friends…

'It's okay,' I answered, resuming to drink my tea. I didn't even drink tea, but it wasn't bad. I asked for it, after all.

Almost too quickly I had drank my tea, and it was time for me to go home.

'Feel free to come back Kyle. It would be lovely to see you again.'

I smiled and waved at the retired psychologist and her granddaughter.

I knew that I would come back, just, not with the reason I ended up with.

.

I should have been prepared for this. I told myself a million times that it would happen if I didn't tell anyone about him. But I was crazy to think that anyone could actually prepare for such a thing.

'Are you sure you're going to be okay?'

I looked up with the most reassuring smile I could muster.

'I'm going to be fine, ma. I've got plenty of food, money and numbers to call for an emergency. Now go— you're not going to reach your goal of the day before sunset!'

I pushed her softly, leading her to the car where my father and little brother were already waiting for her.

'Don't forget to turn the gas off every time you use it!' My mother called, leaning out of the window, threatening to flip the car over with her weight. 'Keep the doors and windows locked all the time! But don't forget to open the windows and change the air occasionally! Keep the house nice and tidy! And—'

'Bye!' I yelled, cutting her off short as the car became smaller and smaller. I took a long breath before turning my heels to enter the empty house, and as I did, a gentle, but fresh summer breeze flowed past me as if cheering for my home alone.

A small smile rested on my lips. Three months was a long time, and I had most of that time to spend all alone with myself. My house was bright when I entered, but so open and big now that I was alone.

I guess, when kids are home alone without their parents like me, they would use that opportunity to hold a big party and get completely smashed. But not me. For a couple of days I just read, and interestingly, I touched the piano.

It was for Ike, the piano. My parents wanted to challenge my brother with something and music was the only option left, apart from art. But naturally, playing the piano was no challenge for him, although that was no surprise to me. What did surprise me though, were my own fingers that flowed over the keys. For three years I practically did nothing but play the piano and do homework. Not as much as Ike, but the instrument came quite natural to me. I quit it after the three years of junior high, but still played occasionally for my pleasure.

And of course I played my favourite composer. His notes filled the empty house, and they were the only things that existed in my mind. The instrument I hadn't touched for over a year was something I found extremely relaxing and comforting.

Prelude in D Flat Major, Op. 28, No. 15

The last notes filled the air. After indulging myself in the sounds that I had created made me realise the power music had to calm and erase all unwanted thoughts out of my mind. Before the thought could wash away, I scavenged out some CDs and placed one in the old CD player that was hardly now ever used.

Mozart… Apparently his music has the power to relax. But before I could be proven so, three loud knocks on the front door echoed around me, overpowering Mozart's music in my ears. I gasped in surprise and looked at the door, slightly nervous because I hadn't come to contact with anyone in two days.

The music began to enter my ear, slowly, the dark harmony of strings flowed through the background as I moved towards the door.

My house was dark, yet bright inside at the same time. The windows, vibrantly glowing in the colour of the blinding reds and oranges of the sunset outside, were the only source of light. The white walls of my house were burning in a warm scarlet. It was that special time of the day that if you noticed it, it almost felt like you were the only person that existed in the world. And playing in the background was Mozart's Requiem Mass in D Minor. How appropriate, I think now.

My hand slid onto the doorhandle that led me to the person outside, and I opened it without question, without a single thought.

It is always best to ask whom it is before you welcome someone in. Apparently vampires can't enter someone's house without first being invited inside. But I let him in, just like that. I unlocked the door, twisted the knob to let the door open itself up, and I let him in.

He was a vampire. Large figure covered from head to foot with raven black, his clothes dyed from the shadow cast on him by the sunset glaring from behind. He was thirsty, lured to me by his animalistic need to feed on my blood. He took two heavy steps in, pondering like a bear having trouble walking on its two feet. With fear, I took two steps back. The door creaked close behind him, shutting out the sun on his back, and now that the shadow was gone I could see his face.

Thin lips curled up into a smile, dark, menacing and dangerously excited in a very calm way. My muscles tensed like an alarmed cat, silent in concentration as it faced its threat.

'Hello Kahl—'

As if those slow and slicing words were a trigger, the loud chorus began in the background, and I took off. I kicked my feet on the floor and run away from him without a single word. I could feel his smile widen behind as he raced after me. I was desperate to get away, my mind didn't even have to give out orders to my body, I just ran. I turned around the corner and jumped up onto my stairs, my destination being my room and the lock on its door. But the second I jumped up to the middle of the staircase, a fierce hand yanked at my ankle and pulled me straight down without mercy, causing me to tumble down sharp edges until I ended by his feet, lifeless from the pain paralysing my body.

He swang my limp body up onto his shoulder and carried me up the stairs to my destination, throwing me onto my bed and shutting the door behind him.

'Was that just a small game of yours Kahl, or did you actually think that you could run away from me?'

I didn't answer him. Just remained frozen on my bed with my red hair covering my eyes.

'I'm sure you have felt so alone Kahl, especially now that your parents are away.'

How does he know that, I wondered, but still didn't respond.

'So I thought I would come here and keep you company.'

My mattress cried quietly underneath as Eric crawled on top of me, his arms and legs trapping me under him in his cage.

I didn't even respond anymore as he lifted up my shirt and began kissing me, biting me, hurting me. His lips didn't burn my skin, if anything, he froze it, turning them into stone-like ice that felt nothing under his touch. I didn't squirm as I normally did, I didn't protest, or say anything; just tried to focus on mournful music in the distant background. But my silence caused Eric to look up at me after a minute or so in curiosity and confusion.

'You're a bit quiet today, Kahl. You aren't unconscious are you?'

His voice was almost frustrated, or even angry.

My lips parted just slightly, and I murmured quiet words.

'Huh?' He asked.

'I said I'm just too tired Eric. Just… go home…'

My voice was airy, emotionless, that somehow enraged Eric, which he only showed with a twitch of his eyebrow as a warning.

Aggressively, he grabbed my wrists and tore them wide apart, exposing every single part of my naked torso to him, my stomach, my chest, my inner arms, my neck— everything. Now suddenly, forcing to stare up into his cold, narrowed eyes, I was exploding inside with raging panic.

'Are you saying that little kisses aren't enough for you now?'

He lowered his crotch down onto mine, and slowly began rocking up and down.

'Well, you know. I have been thinking exactly the same thing for quite some time now—'

Rocking… Rocking…

'Especially this past week of the holidays. It's the only thing I've been thinking about—'

It was only a natural biological response, I kept on telling myself. But still, I couldn't help but feel disgusted and hatred for the hardness inside my pants that came from Eric's friction against me.

My wrists were instantly released free and my hands shot to Eric's back as his hands fiddled with the zipper of my jeans. My hands curled into fists and hit him repeatedly as hard as I could.

'No, no no no no no, Eric! Stop! Fucking… fucking— Agh!'

I screeched in desperation to get him off, because today he was different. Today he was… he wasn't holding back. My jeans slid off almost too easily along with my underwear, coating my angry words with pathetic sobs I couldn't control.

My legs thrashed through the air desperately as he continued to drag my jeans down off my feet, and finally, I got one kick in his jaw and another one straight in his eye. I didn't realise though, I was just desperate there, kicking for my life. That was, until he threw the hardest punch he could muster into my face.

He didn't even have to say anything. I instantly shut up and fell lifeless on the mattress. Maybe I fell unconscious for that short time, I don't know, but I could still tell Eric getting his clothes off in the distance, away from my conscious registration.

'You know, I actually enjoy you being so desperate to get away from me—' Eric said as he flipped me over onto my stomach, slowly digging a finger into me, making me scream.

'It tells me how much you don't want this—' His words were slow, slow enough so he could twist a second finger into me, followed by a third.

'It tells me my potential of how much I can break you—' finally, after minutes of preparing me through my screaming and thrashing, he seemed satisfied. He took out a small bottle and a packet of condoms, a preparation I wasn't expecting from him, as well as a sense of deep disgust and despair that he had been planning this all along…

'It tells me that I'm the only one with control over you… that I'm the only one who's going to take everything away from you and now—' his hands gripped my hips, 'And now, I'm taking your virginity.'

That is when I laughed an empty roar of loud laughter that expressed my near insanity. Dry hysterical sounds scraping my throat filled the room, and I felt Eric freeze above me in confusion.

'You're the only one?' I cackled, 'You're the only one with control over me? Taking everything away from me?' I tilted my head to the side along the mattress, glaring burning eyes up into Eric as my lips formed a fierce smile.

'You're the one taking my virginity? Well sorry Eric. That's already been taken.'

His round, confused eyes slowly narrowed at my words, as if confirming the doubt that has been lurking inside him like a hungry worm.

'It was Kenny wasn't it?'

His voice was as deadly as ever, but I couldn't hear it. I was too out of it, laughing painfully with hysterical despair.

'I knew he wouldn't keep his poor-ass hands off…'

'You're wrong Eric—' he tensed and looked down at me with wide eyes, 'I was the one who suggested it.'

I leaned myself up onto my knees and turned around to look at him, still with a maddened smile on my lips, and I placed my hand seductively on his chest, leaning in to his ear.

'I was the one who asked for it. I begged him for it. I begged him to fuck me. "Fuck me Kenny," that is what I said. _"Fuck me Kenny—"_'

The next second I was on my stomach again, my laughter turning into fierce screams as Eric entered me ruthlessly. The lube and condom were disregarded, and the enflamed rage inside him made him dig into me dry. The pain was excruciating, not just the fact that he was raping me, _but the actual pain._ I felt my skin tearing under the mercy of his thrusts. I've never screamed so hard in my life, and I knew that when I was, I was actually _screaming for my life_.

The springs of the mattress cried with me in agony, with each time Eric pounded into me it would yelp and sob, as if crying for my sake. I couldn't hear the music any more. Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably, and I was so desperate to fall into unconsciousness. But Eric wouldn't let me.

He yanked me by the hair brutally, making me arch my back so that he could find a better angle to pull me down, and fuck me more savagely. His cock was actually inside me, I could feel it like a warm and thick carnivorous leech eating me away. He dug deeper and deeper, even hitting my prostate, sending me unbearable pleasure on top of the excruciating pain. With every little pleasure felt, I knew I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.

He released finally, after his thrusting continued to quicken and harden like a maniac. His cum spread inside me, but still he continued to pound as if desperate to let that moment continue for as long as possible.

I don't know if I was breathing. I couldn't feel my body, and I couldn't hear my breaths because they died under the sound of Eric's aggressive panting. He finally dragged himself out of me, letting his dick spit out some more cum off onto my motionless back.

Maybe he thought that I was dead, like I thought that I was too, because he didn't say another word as he slipped into his clothes and left. Like the dead body I thought I was, I lay there lifelessly, begging for my body to just stop its breathing forever, if it hadn't done so already.

When my eyes opened next, I was welcomed back to conscious by the sound of strong rain. Only a couple of hours ago there were not one speck of clouds in the sky, and now South Park was pouring.

It was the sky crying, I thought. The sky was crying for me, because no tears were able to leak out of me anymore. Not now. No more.

I heard people talk about it, but I never really believed them. Because after two years of living through pain, I still had never felt it. But now, I believed them. Now I had definitely found out what it was, and what it felt like.

A pain worse than death.

.

I couldn't take a shower; it just hurt too much. Even just walking those few steps to the bathroom was excruciating enough. So I cleaned my self with a wet towel, gently patting the cum, the sweat and smell off of me, over and over and over again slowly, for more than an hour, I just wiped my whole body.

When I finally limped myself back to my room and turned the light on, I instantly turned it back off, and collapsed onto my knees at the doorway. My bed was messed up, the sheets and blanket wrinkled as if there were still two invisible people there fucking. I couldn't take the next step, just that one step into my room.

What did it take you to fear even your own room? Your own bed, which is meant to be that one place in the world that kept you safe from everything you feared?

I couldn't stay there. Not without the sound of the mattress still crying in my ear in harmony with the sound of Eric's thrusts. Not without the pain.

I rose up onto my feet and rushed down the stairs, and into the pouring rain with only my keys and money in hand.

The large summer droplets sank into my top, making the fabric stick to my skin. I stood there, staring up into the crying sky.

Where would I go now?

My legs automatically moved to my only destination. It must have been strange, watching a kid outside on his own, limping his way through the pouring rain.

I knocked on his door once. No response. I knocked again, still no response.

Maybe he wasn't home…

But even so, without anywhere else to go, I sat in front of his door, bringing my thighs to my chest and hugging them as I dug my face into my knees. I don't know how long I waited for, maybe a few hours, maybe only two. I stayed in that one stance though, with my face in the darkness in between my knees, so time didn't seem as it was.

The rain was now my only company, along with the sound of boots splashing puddles of water in the distance. But I didn't respond to it, I don't think the sound even reached my ears.

'Holy _fuck_!'

That voice did though.

'Kyle? Dude, what are you doing here?'

I slowly lifted my head up, away from the darkness, and looked into his confused and surprised icy-blue eyes. His eyes widened, almost in shock as I looked at him, which also took his ability to talk away from him.

My lips parted. The voice that came out was a whisper of an insect, dying on my tongue.

'I wanted a place to stay…'

It was amazing how the rain didn't wash out my words.

The tension in his body slowly flowed away along with the shock as if he had just given himself in to whatever situation this was.

'Okay… Come in—'

He reached his hand down to help me get up, but I didn't take it. My hands were too occupied holding my shaking self, and I didn't think I could manage touching anyone right now.

He opened the door and flicked the light on in his one-room apartment. I stood at his doorway and let the view of his messy apartment enter my brain, along with Kenny's scent that flowed through me, strangely, making my lungs relax and breathe.

'Are you coming in?' Kenny popped his head into view, making my breath jump, but relax quickly.

I looked down at my feet lined up perfectly along the doorframe that divided in from out. My foot took one step forward, and now I was inside Kenny's home. He welcomed me in with a fluffy white towel, indicating me to wipe my drenched hair.

'So, what happened to you? Locked yourself outside?'

'No, just—' I bit my tongue in thought, but nothing came up, 'just didn't want to stay there…'

He looked at me with raised eyebrows, but then frowned and simply let the subject fall.

'You should take a shower dude, you'll catch a cold.'

'No,' I answered almost too quickly, 'I just took one before I came here.'

So he lent me some of his clothes instead, and an old hairdryer to blow away the droplets from my curls.

'Dude,' Kenny said, as he saw me coming out of his bathroom, 'why are you limping?'

'Nothing, really,' I lied, and stood there in between Kenny, leaning up on his mattress without a top, and the bathroom.

'Well, are you coming to bed?' He asked, and somehow, my face instantly burned up.

'I think… I will sleep on the ground.'

I limped over to beside his mattress and curled up on the ground, slightly wincing in pain as I did.

'You know, just because we had sex before doesn't mean I'm going to do something to you again. Not if you don't want to. You can sleep in my bed with me. I promise I won't rape you.'

My heart jumped at that word, but I quickly relaxed. I know you won't, I thought, because you're not Eric…

'I know Kenny. It's just cooler down here.'

He didn't say anything more. Sighing out his nose, he turned the light off, and surrounded us in pitch-black. It was good though, to know that he couldn't see me.

I chose to sleep on the floor because I didn't think I could take feeling another person's skin. But when I woke up, my arms were around Kenny's naked back, and his were around my waist with out chests touching with absolutely no space in between us.

If it was true that I didn't want to feel anyone, then why was it that I sneaked into his bed in the middle of the night and hugged him close?

.

My hair grows about half an inch every month, although it wouldn't seem that way because my hair curls around, seeming shorter.

People, girls usually, complimented my hair a lot. "I love your hair. It's so red… Are you sure you haven't dyed it? And it's so curly—" they would say, with slight jealousy in their voices. But I think they only said that because I was like, the only guy who washed his hair frequently.

But now that hair was dropping onto the tiles of Kenny's bathroom floor, curling around my feet like dead maggots.

In the early morning of the next day, Kenny woke up without me in his hold. He must have woken up sometime in the night to notice that we were holding each other while sleeping, or maybe his subconscious recognised my warmth, I don't know. But he woke up, and the first thing he noticed was that something was missing: me.

And then he noticed the sound of the subtle buzzing in the distance.

Slowly, he pushed his half-asleep body off of the bed, and walked towards his bathroom where the sound was coming from, and opened the door, letting the buzzing fill his whole apartment. His eyes slowly widened in shock and confusion at what he saw, where the sound was coming from.

More red strands fell lifelessly to the floor.

'Kyle, what are you doing?'

'Huh?'

I looked at him with blank eyes, the electric shaver I found near Kenny's bathroom sink still buzzing hungrily in my hand. He was still in shock, but not enough to stop him from grabbing the device out of my hand.

'Dude! You're shaving your hair!'

He pressed the button and the device died in his grip. When he looked down at me, the painful colour in his eyes was confronting me as if he was saying "how could you do such a horrible thing!" But I couldn't feel even a speck of the emotion he was showing. If anything, I felt confusion as to why he was so worked up about me shaving my hair.

'Yeah, I am.'

'Why?'

I blinked at him, and then glanced at the mirror showing my broken reflection. My eyes were wide, but they didn't reflect any shine, or show any colour. Half of my hair was gone, now their corpses lied against my feet. It was funny, almost. You could draw a line through the middle of my face, right down dividing left and right, and you would be given an image of "before and after."

The left side of my head was still flourished with long, red curls, nothing changed since the last I fell asleep, while almost all of the right side of my head was missing what was there before.

'Why did you do this?' Kenny asked again, this time more loudly, even desperately.

I looked back at him with an unchanging face.

'I don't know.'

He didn't breathe for a second, trying to transmit my words into his understanding. And then all the tension leaked out of his body along with one deep, long sigh.

I think then I found out that he knew, and that he had known for some time now, that there was something seriously wrong with me. Inside him, there were two sides fighting a war, one that wanted to confront me, even if it had to be with force, while the other believed that he could trust me, trust that I'll tell him if I really needed to. I could see the intense battle flickering in his eyes.

Strangely enough though, the second side won. I was thankful for that.

'You kind of look like some punk-rocker Kyle,' Kenny chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood at the breakfast table, 'you should get a tattoo or something.'

I blinked at him, knowing that he was joking but unable to get the idea out of my head.

'Yeah…'

His joking smile quickly dropped.

'What? You know I'm joking, right?'

'Yeah…'

Heavy silence followed.

'So, what are you planning on doing today?'

'…I think I'll go to the city.' I answered after a long pause. I didn't have anything to do, but now that I had said that I was going to the city, the idea didn't seem so bad. Maybe I'll go to Sophie Rogers, I thought.

'I'm going into the city too. Got a day job during the summer. I can take you.'

And so I went to the city. I didn't feel really self-conscious, since I was borrowing Kenny's beanie to cover my shaved head. Or maybe I wasn't self-conscious at all, to the point that I wasn't even self-aware. I don't know.

'I might be a little later than you. But call me if you need a ride home.'

I nodded, and he drove off. But my feet didn't directly go to the Rogers' house. With some of the money my parents left for grocery, I chose to stop by somewhere on the way. Somewhere that burned something almost spiritual into my head.

.

By the time I knocked on the door of Sophie Rogers' house it was around about evening. Maybe I should have called to ask her if it was okay to step by, but my burning head didn't think of such a thing. Besides, I didn't know her number.

'Oh, hello! What a surprise Kyle,' Jessie answered the door with her familiar friendly smile. The surprise on her face was evident, but it was that of a pleasant surprise. She welcomed me inside, and I obliged politely.

'Sorry, Sophie's having a rest right now, but…'

'Who's having a rest?' The creaking sound of wheels entered our ears, and we turned back to find Sophie Rogers in her wheelchair enter the room. 'Hello, Kyle. Nice to see again,' she smiled warmly.

'Sorry for coming here so soon, and without notice—'

'No, no, it's a pleasure,' and then she stopped to look into my eyes, just as she did the first time we met. The shining glow in her eyes quivered slightly, but instantly returned to its usual smile. 'I'm guessing you came to look at my collection of books again. Jessie, would you mind making us a cup of tea?'

'Sure Nana,' Jessie's hazel ponytail twirled like rye swaying in the wind as she walked away into the kitchen. She was like the sun's ray of autumn, warm and its brightness gentle. I could imagine how much she meant to and supported the old woman in the wheelchair, just by the way she shone in the house.

Sophie Rogers led me back to her small library where most of the walls were practically made of bookshelves filled with hardcover books that smelled like the deep end of an old forest. I first reached out for Piaget, flicking through the pages of the book, but without any words entering my head. After all, I hadn't come for the book. I had come for Sophie Rogers. But somewhere, I think I knew that Sophie Rogers already knew that.

But I needed something to distract me, as I tried to form my thoughts into words, and Piaget had to do for now. I stood there, acting as if I was sinking myself into the book, as I opened my mouth to generate a polite conversation on the side.

'So what did you specialise in?' I asked. I had my back to her, but I knew she was looking at me intently.

'I was a counselling psychologist,' she said slowly and clearly, 'I worked with young people, like you.'

Her words and voice made me take my eyes off the book and turn to face her.

'What was that like?' I asked, drawn in by her embracing eyes.

'It was wonderful. But it had its ups and downs like all work do, in the case of counselling, the ups were fabulous, and the downs were severe. Thank you Jessie—' she said as Jessie gave her a cup of tea. I said the same and took my own cup, sinking myself into the couch now.

'What were the ups and downs?'

'Well, the ups were that I believed that I was helping people, seeing the light returning in people's eyes over the time. But the truth is,' she leaned in with a smile to whisper as if she was sharing a special secret, 'the truth is Kyle, that people can only help themselves.'

For a short instant, my mind left the room to combat the thoughts in my head, my eyes quivering around as I let Sophie Rogers' words sink into my head.

'The downs were—' her voice brought me out of my thoughts, 'of course, that you cannot save everyone. I have seen young people traumatised, severely depressed or insane. Sometimes, they are taken away. And sometimes, they pass away.'

Her voice was even as she said that, but her eyes twinkled with sorrow. It was as if the years— even decades of working as a counsellor had made her embrace the fact that some people just cannot be saved, but still couldn't help but regret for each life that has slipped away from her hands.

She smiled at me, I tried to smile back, but couldn't, and she embraced that as well.

I had had this similar feeling before while being with someone. It was as if, even without saying any words, Sophie Rogers had understood everything that had happened to me, knew exactly how I felt, and knew exactly what to do, but was just waiting for me to tell her with my own words. I had felt this same feeling a year ago, when I met that French boy who gave me the Lycoris radiata.

My hand unconsciously moved up to my burning head, but stopped before I could touch the fabric of Kenny's beanie.

'What were your clients like? The people you helped and couldn't.'

'Well, as I said, they were young, like you, or even younger. All of them had different problems, for example—' she paused, her eyes sinking me in, as if searching for something she could see in the heavy fog, 'Phobias, anxiety, stress, depression… Abuse. Some of them suffered severe abuse, emotional, physical, sexual—' I felt myself blink heavily at that word, like a zap, 'Sometimes it was from a stranger, although it wasn't like on the internet as it would be likely in today's society. But other times, it would be from someone close. A family member maybe, or a lover, a friend…'

I gulped, but tried to hide it under a sip of my tea. Sophie Rogers watched this action, and smiled sadly.

'I'm sorry Kyle. I guess this was not a very nice conversation to have while drinking tea.'

'Oh, no,' I urged, 'I'm the one who asked you. It's fine.'

She nodded understandingly.

'It was sometimes— painful to hear all the brutalities these children had faced, or were still facing. To hear how horrible people could be to each other, furthermore, to someone close. But to not hear them, when they really existed somewhere where you couldn't see, was even worse.

'There was one child, who came to me and did not speak a word for the whole hour. That continued for a few sessions until he finally said that he was wasting my time. Not his time, but mine. I told him that I hadn't wasted one second of my time. The next session, he tried to talk, although words were very difficult for him. He apologised for his "slow and clumsy words". I said that he could take all the time in the world. That this time while we were together, were all for him.'

It was slightly confusing as I listened to her voice say those words.

'Many children do not open up at first. By they all want help, no matter how long it takes for them to admit to it, if they ever do. Deep down they all want help, and that is why they come here. And that is the first step Kyle, to admit that you want help. To let help come to you.'

I blinked a few times quickly and half-heartedly. Suddenly, the oxygen in the room seemed very limited and it was hard to breathe. I had to get out.

'Well, I think I should go ma'am. Thank you for the tea, and talking to me.'

'Yes of course,' she wheeled after me as I walked down to the main entrance of her house.

'Come anytime you want to Kyle,' she said as I took my steps outside, 'hope to seeing you soon.'

I smiled weakly, and turned my back on the house to look ahead. The sky was turning a deep red and I could smell cooking in the air coming from all the suburban houses, kids in the distance laughing as they made there way home for dinner.

I wondered as I opened my ears to the voices around me, how many of those laughter's were forced, how many of those words were lies, how many of those people were hurting.

For the first time, that day it occurred to me, or I hit realisation by Sophie Rogers' words that there were other children, other people, suffering just like I was, or maybe even worse. The thought was near impossible, but it was the truth.

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for reading and reviewing. And I'm sorry I didn't warn you about the rape, but thank you for enduring it. And sorry for my repetitive references to music, but I can't help it. **

**Again, though, thank you.**


	14. Chapter 14

Step 18: Talk to Someone

_Chapter Fourteen: Blue Tattoo_

Language of flowers for Lycoris radiata, part one:

"Painful memories", "Resignation".

.

I am not an impulsive person really. Well, I didn't use to be. But I guess I was proving myself wrong.

Kenny didn't ask me if I wanted him to take me back to my house or if I wanted to go back to his. He guessed that if I was ready to go back home I would go back myself. Or maybe he didn't mind having me as company in his lonely apartment. I don't know, either way…

'I can't believe you actually got it,' Kenny said, laughing to try and hide the stress in his voice, 'so that is why you wore the beanie while you slept last night.'

I had taken the bandage off, cleaned it and was now rubbing ointment in to keep it moist. It was funny how much care was needed for something that came out of impulse.

My eyes mixed with confusion and curiosity when I looked at Kenny, leaning against the bathroom door while trying not to stare too hard. I looked at myself in the mirror, wondering why Kenny found it so shocking, and failing to find out once again.

My red hair, glowing extra scarlet under the bathroom bulb, was swept to one side to expose the shaved half of my head, but now, it wasn't just exposing pale scalp. It was exposing the bright red Lycoris radiata burned into my skin.

'It looks like someone's put a flower into your hair, which, you know, shaved off…'

The stem curled up the back of my head, and the large flower bloomed just above my temple. Now that I was looking at it, I found it a little fascinating. The bright red of the flower matched my hair on the other side of my head, and the deep green of the stem matched the colour of my eyes. I never noticed, but my colour palette was pretty distinct. Vibrant red and green against my white skin, and even now that I had got a tattoo for the first time in my life, that hadn't changed.

The fresh new tattoo was already a part of me, in every way possible.

If my parents found out about the tattoo then they would have probably killed me. So I guessed I would have to borrow Kenny's baggy beanie for a while, just until enough of my hair grew back.

'Are you sure you're not going to regret it?'

'I don't think so,' I answered blankly, 'no one will see it.'

Sometimes I wondered why Kenny was so kind to me. He let me stay at his house, eat his food, he let me sleep with him, he didn't ask me any questions, although it was only too obvious that he craved for answers for the questions that he stopped himself from asking me. But when I turned and looked into his icy-blue eyes, something inside me said that I knew, although I tried to suppress it as much as possible. The thought strangely made me anxious, although it didn't stop me staying by his side.

I stayed by his side for the whole summer.

But I didn't stay at his house for nothing. I refused to. I paid for the food that I ate and cleaned his apartment everyday. Don't call me a housewife because it was Kenny that made our meals; I couldn't cook for shit. I have to be honest, I didn't go out much, except for the occasional stroll around the neighbourhood. Kenny was the only person I really did see, except for at night. When night came, _he_ would come. _He_ would come to visit me in my dreams.

I would wake up chocking on my own silent scream, still feeling the sensation of him shooting through my veins.

Sometimes when I woke up, I would wake up to Kenny's icy-blue eyes staring at me in confusion. His lips would part, in order to ask me softly if I had just had a nightmare. But before any words would come out, I would seal his lips with mine. I would kiss him and touch him until I felt the nightmare slowly drain out of me, even if that took us all the way to sex. I liked it when he fucked me. The hormones that exploded in my mind with each of his careful thrusts were enough to shoot everything out of me until I fell into sleep.

Although I still didn't let him take my top off.

But when he wasn't awake, I had to find something else. I didn't want to wake him from his deep, comfortable sleep in order to fulfil my needs. I didn't have the courage to.

In the middle of the night, hearing Kenny's deep breaths of sleep, I would leave his bed and cross the apartment room that was lit up by the bright moon and slide into the bathroom. I would be breathing heavily, forcing the tears that were burning my eyes to dry up before they could leak out and hit the ground. Crying was the last thing I could do, I hated myself for every tear that leaked out of me. But it was only the burning hormones created by Kenny's thrusts that could stop it. That, and one other thing.

When the blade slowly ripped through my skin, letting beads of blood leak out, there was this burst of hormones that rushed through my head. Just a small cut under the sleave of my shirt, that was all that took for my tears to shrivel up and let me breathe again. It was like a drug, and like all drugs, it was addictive, and had consequences. But before I could dwell my mind on it, I would return to Kenny's bed and fall into successful sleep, this time, without dreams.

It would be a lie if I said that I didn't mind relying on Kenny's kindness so much. In fact, sometimes, it kept me up at night. But I couldn't go back to my house. I couldn't go back to my room and dig into those sheets to sleep again, even if it meant that I hated myself for relying on Kenny. Fear overtook my pride. But what kept me up at night wasn't my shuttered pride, but guilt. As much as I thought I was immune to it by this point, there was still the feeling lurking inside my stomach.

That is why I always remembered and thought of her words like never-resting whispers in my mind.

And that is why I went back to her house.

'Hi,' I said a little nervously when the front door opened.

'Kyle,' Jessie breathed in surprise, and breathed out in what seemed to be relief, 'it's so nice to see you.'

'You too,' I answered as she let me in.

'Sophie has been waiting for you for a while now. She's in the usual room; been in there everyday since the last time you came. You go ahead, I'll make some tea.'

I knocked on the door before entering, the action taking much more courage than needed.

'Come in,' she called, and I did.

She was sitting by the open window, looking outside, and didn't look back until I used my voice.

'Hello,' it took. Her eyes widened in surprise, but soon softened into her usual, all-embracing smile.

'It is so nice to see you Kyle, I didn't know if you would come here again. '

'Yeah. Me neither…' I admitted, 'In fact, I didn't think I would come.'

She nodded acceptingly.

'So, what has brought you here, then?'

I tensed my lips together and rolled them nervously, still having doubts as to whether my reasons were right. Her hand cut in my thoughts though, and indicated for the couch for me to sit. I obliged, this time, making words easier to come out as I relaxed on the cushions.

'Your words… I couldn't stop thinking about them…'

'Which ones?'

'You know,' I glanced up at her, and then back down to my hands, 'about the kids who wanted help. About the kids that confessed and didn't…'

A silence for breath followed.

'Is there any reason why… _now_?'

—Why I came now, today? I didn't exactly know why. But as the time progressed towards the end of the holidays I was turning more and more unstable.

'School starts soon, you know? My third year. And my parents would be back by next week.'

'Oh? How has your time been living alone for the past couple of months?'

'Okay, I guess. I have been staying at my friends house though…'

'Don't want to go home?'

I looked at her with wide eyes, wondering how she got that. Or was I that obvious?

'Yes.'

Another silence followed, broken by Jessie's entrance with the teas. We thanked her, and she left with a few friendly words.

'Are you looking forward to the new school year?'

'No,' I admitted quietly, 'I mean, who does? School is a lot of stress, as you said to me.'

'Yes. Yes it is. And especially for you, am I right?'

I glanced up again at her, and back down again to my hands. They were fiddling with each other; my whole body was jittery now.

'I am not your client Mrs. Rogers.' They were slightly irritating: my own shaking hands.

'I know, but still, you came here.'

I looked up, my fiddling freezing. Those words stopped my breath, and the next time I exhaled, my breath came out with all the shake and tension that was locked inside my body.

'Will you promise you won't tell anyone?' I whispered. She smiled gently.

'Did you know Kyle, that this room used to be my office? There wasn't a television then, or nearly as many bookshelves, but this was it. Many secrets were shared in this room, and it was the role of this room to not let any of them out. And so what was said here, never left here. And they never will.'

I knew what she meant, and I knew now that I had to do what I came here for.

'Mrs Rogers…' I slowly began, 'I need help.'

I couldn't believe I just said that, and the second I did, tears began to well up. But I didn't have Kenny with me, or a knife, to stop those tears. And I was lost with what to do.

'Do not worry about crying Kyle, let them come.' I looked up painfully, 'Do not tense your tear glands, relaxed your face, your cheeks, your forehead, and just concentrate on your voice and your words. It's okay Kyle, I am here to listen.'

Slowly, my blurred vision began to clear up, whether it was because my tears dried or because they fell out of my eyes I don't know, but it didn't matter to me any more. I simply began to talk.

'I— I'm scared all the time… I'm scared of going back to school, I'm scared of going back home, I'm even scared of going outside alone and I'm even scared of going to sleep…'

'Why?'

'BECAUSE _HE'S_ THERE!' my voice bellowed. And then my throat shrivelled up, making my words quiet down like the shaking of a leaf in the wind, 'He always is… He's at school, comes to my home, waits outside and comes to me in my dreams… and then…'

I guess I was crying then. I remember cupping my eyes with my palm and my lips shaking horribly.

'Who is he, Kyle? What does he do to you?'

'He hurts me… At first it was just money, lying that he would give it back. Then it was the threatening, and then the punching… But then… And then he started to…' I felt sick in my stomach and held my mouth. Gathering the courage to say it was difficult. And when I said it, and admit that all that had, and still was, happening to me, it was as if I had just realised the disgusting brutality of the action.

'Touch me…' the two words filled the room, '—he began to touch me… I have bite marks and hickeys all over my torso, as well as all the bruises he still gives me. I could show them to you if you want, but I don't think that's necessary.'

She stayed quiet for a second, her smiled dropped, until she finally asked, 'Is that all?'

'Huh?'

'Is that all that he has done?'

My vision twirled, and I hugged my shoulders as my whole body began to shake violently. But I could talk.

'The the second time I came here, just after I got this…' I took my beanie off and revealed the Lycoris radiata underneath, 'One day before that, he came to my house while I was all alone. He came to my house. He raped me.'

Silence followed, and although I thought that she must have heard similar stories in the past, I worried of how she would react, how she would judge…

'It's okay Kyle. You're safe here…'

I felt the warmth of her hand on my shoulder, which was impossible since she was sitting a few feet away in her wheelchair. But it let me breathe again.

'Now,' she said more seriously, 'who is he?'

I listened to my own silent breaths flow in and out of me. The answer, now that I thought about it, was impossible, but it was true.

'He was my best friend.' _Was_. 'And now I even fear my own house because of him.'

'Are you staying somewhere else now?'

'Yeah. I told you, I'm staying with my friend.'

'Does he know about this?'

The grip on Kenny's beanie in my hand tightened.

'No.'

'Have you told anyone about this Kyle?'

'About what? The physical and sexual abuse that began two years ago? He doesn't even need to threat me anymore! It's like my body's accustomed to do as he says! You know, he could say that I didn't even protest, and I don't even know if I would be able to deny it. It's useless…'

But then I reflected on my words, and noticed how I hadn't said the one truth.

'That, and, I still have _hope_,' it was strange to hear the word coming out of my mouth, 'I have, my only hope that is when I graduate, this will all be over. Just one more year and I will be able to forget everything and pretend that it never happened. I would be normal, and I will live my life again. But if I tell anyone, than it would never be forgotten. They would never look at me with the same eyes again and every time I look at them I will be forced to remember by their gaze.

…Before, over a year ago I had hope that he would get sick and stop this soon. But now, this is my only hope, and the only way for it is to live through another year of this alone. It's my only hope to return back.'

'But Kyle, I don't think you'll be able to get through this alone…'

'I have to— it's my only way.'

.

Although I told Sophie Rogers that I had to go through this alone, it was still true that I was heavily relying on Kenny for survival. I kind of contradicted myself, as in I said that I had to cope alone, but I needed help to do so. Kenny was my help, and without him, I wouldn't be able to be alone.

I no longer blamed Kenny for what had happened to me, it was ridiculous, too painfully so. Now, I just blamed myself. In the end, that was all it came down to.

'School starts soon.'

'Yeah, I know, it sucks!'

'Are you ready for the new year?'

'Yeah, yesterday was my last day at work. No more extra money— I got my books too, second hand, not bad quality, but expensive nonetheless. How about you?'

Physically?

'Yeah, I'm ready.'

Mentally?

_No. I'm not ready. _

It had been nearly three months that I had stayed with Kenny, although we hardly saw each other during the day.

Time went by with a flash. But in the mornings, like now, when we just sat on the mattress with our shoulders brushing against each other and drinking our coffee, feeling the warm fume of the drink caress our cheeks, it was as if time had chosen to slow down and take a break. I sometimes wished that time would stop, so that I could sit there with Kenny and feel his warmth forever.

But still, in reality time flies. My shaved hair had grown back a little, maybe an inch or so with some streaks coloured in the green of the Lycoris radiata stem. It was a day or so before my family returned. I had to go home. I had to clean the house before my family got back.

'I'll go with you,' Kenny suggested as I got up to leave, 'I can help.'

My mouth opened to decline, but instantly closed back in thought.

'Okay.'

I'll ask him to clean my room, I thought. That way I wouldn't need to go in there myself.

The house was neat, with everything in order. The only problem, was the dust. Nice thick layer of grey practically coated everything and I knew instantly that it would take almost the whole day to clean. First of all, I wrapped my right sleeve up, ready to get started—

'Hey Kyle!' Kenny came tumbling down the stairs with his loud voice, 'Why do these sheets have blood on them?'

My heart almost stopped when I saw the pile of white sheets in his arms. White sheets that came off my bed, stained with blood, and the cum that was now invisible.

'Blood nose,' I lied, averting my eyes.

He looked at me weirdly, then at the stained sheets, but quickly shrugged and rushed back up the stairs. And I began to wonder: maybe it was a bad idea to ask Kenny to clean my room.

I had cleaned the kitchen, the hallways, the stairs, the bathrooms, and was now in the just-vacuumed lounge room with a cloth in my hand, ready to scrub. My last object to clean stood there patiently, and I slid my damp cloth delicately across its dusty surface to share my greetings.

I lifted the cleaned lid up, and looked at the eighty-eight, dusty black and white keys inside. Intently, I cleaned each one, hitting a few notes accidently as I did.

But as I did hit a few soft notes, the noise overtook the sound of slow and quiet footsteps. They came down the stairs, and then came the sound of feet being dragged along the carpet of the hallway and then across the lounge room, until he was there, right behind me.

'Kyle, what are these?'

His distracted, yet shaking words made me swing my head from the piano, to the blond boy standing behind me, looking down at his palm. He was holding a pile of cards— no, photographs—

My jaw began to shake, eyes not being able to blink, heart pounding furiously. Kenny looked up, his eyes too, not blinking, protesting me for denial.

'What are these?'

I turned my unblinking eyes from Kenny to the piano, closed the lid, and then slowly walked towards the blond, delicately taking the photographs out of his hand.

'They are none of your business.'

They weren't fierce words, if anything they were gentle. But they caused Kenny to grip my shoulders aggressively and shake me, staring into me with now blazing eyes.

'What the fuck do you mean, _none of my business_? Kyle, I've been living with you for nearly three months now, watching you act like a fucking nutcase and not saying anything about it because I trust you! But if something like _this_,' he took the photographs out of my hand, 'happened to you, then I can't keep my mouth shut anymore! This is insane! Kyle, I lo—'

He bit on his tongue before any of the next couple of words could come out, and I looked at him with confusion in my eyes. He breathed and looked around with a thinking gaze, before turning back to me.

'Kyle, I care about you, dude. Please, don't hide anything like _this_ from me.'

We breathed in unison, heavily, drenched in the following silence. And then it was me who broke it as I stared at the photos, the present from Wendy of my bushed up state.

'It happened last year. I made someone angry, so that person gathered up a few people, bashed me up, drew on me and took pictures as a threat never to do it again.' I was glad you couldn't really see all the hickeys and bite marks from Cartman because of all the thick, black writing.

'Who—' was Kenny's first question, 'who did this to you?'

'It doesn't matter. That person doesn't do anything to me anymore, it was a one time thing.'

'That doesn't matter! Kyle, this person tortured you! And it's still torturing you! You can't just let them get away with that, even if it was just this once! I won't let that person get away with that. I'll kill them!'

I couldn't feel the anger, or even the frustration that Kenny was dominated by. I looked at the photos in my hand, flicking through them, wondering if they were really worth the emotion. Torture, Kenny called this. But even looking through them in revision, it wasn't worth such a label. This was not torture. Not, when compared to what _he_ had done to me. And yet Kenny thought that this was the cause to my weird behaviour, that this was enough. If this was how he reacted for Wendy's photos, I wonder how he would react to the story about Eric.

I couldn't let him know.

'Thank you Kenny,' I said, sliding the photos out of his hand and into my pocket, 'but this is over now. This person will never do anything to me again, and it's better to just forget about it, then to make them angry and spread the photos around.'

My eyes were to the ground, unable to meet Kenny's eyes that were staring at me with frustration and anger towards the photographs in my pocket and my unmoved state.

'Maybe it's better…' he said, 'but _I_ won't forget it.'

And he turned around with his hands deep in his pockets, and walked to exit the house.

Despite his temper, I followed him. I didn't want to stay in my house yet, not when there was no one around.

Kenny didn't say anything as I walked alongside him, our shoulders brushing, our warmth sharing. But as we walked through the hot summer sunset, my hand travelled down into Kenny's pocket jeans and took out his hand. I entwined our fingers, and he gripped them firmly in response.

I don't know why I wanted Kenny to gain his happy self again and lose his frustration so badly. So he would forget about this whole thing and drop it? No, I don't think it was that simple. Maybe it was because, without him, I would have had nobody. Maybe I needed him more desperately than I thought.

But still I deceived him.

.

I welcomed my family on the porch of my own house, waving softly as my mom waved her arm in the air like a whale's tail from the car.

'Kyle! It's so good to see you bubbe!' She cried, crushing me in her gigantic hug.

'What are you talking about, ma? You called and texted me like everyday, it was like you never left!'

She grinned, and hugged me one more time.

'I hope you behaved while we were gone.'

'Of course I did,' except for shaving my head, getting a tattoo and having unprotected sex, yeah, I behaved.

In a few days school would start, along with my misery and my suffering. But for now, I could hug my family and welcome them back to South Park. For now, I could pretend that everything was right. For now, I could sew a smile onto my lips. Because misery was not today, it was tomorrow.

.

'Hey—'

He looked surprised when I called him, leaning against his old orange truck at eight in the morning. His eyes were wide and his body was frozen for a second, until he coughed himself to life and pondered his self towards me, with his feet unconsciously walking a little faster.

'Hi,' he answered, looking straight into my eyes with his intense icy-blue ones.

For the whole day, I never left his side, except for during classes. With no more friends, I didn't have the need to greet anyone, not even Stan. I could see him in the corner of my eye watching me, as if he was about the approach me any second. But I always ran away before he got the chance to.

When I was with Kenny, luckily no one approached us. I knew that it was because of me. I was Kenny's people repellent.

'Sorry,' I mumbled at lunch as we sat under a tree behind the school.

'Sorry about what?'

'Sorry that I'm always making you stay with me, driving people away from you. I mean, now you can't talk to your friends or even get a fucking girlfriend because of me.'

He blinked, then chuckled brightly.

'Dude, don't worry about it! I wouldn't be with you if I didn't want to.'

He always knew the words that would make you feel better. The tension in my face dropped and flowed through my whole body and into the ground under me. I let myself lean against Kenny's shoulder until the bell announced the next session.

But if I were to be completely honest, there was only one main reason as to why I clung close to Kenny. _He_ was always there, watching us— watching me, letting his smoky orbs pollute the air and make it hard to breathe. But he never approached, and so I didn't hear his voice on the first day of school, or the second, or the third. Kenny would drive me home, he would drive me to school, and literary gave _him_ no chance to approach me. I was safe, thanks to Kenny. And if we kept this up everyday then there would be no reason to worry about anything. I thought I had found my solution.

The only dilemma was at home. I couldn't go back to my room without breaking down, which was pretty inconvenient, to say the least. I studied at the kitchen table, and I was always the first one up in the mornings, and the last one up at night. And _night_— oh night. Even if the horrors at school during the day had been resolved, I could never escape the horrors at night.

The marks that Eric made on my torso had disappeared from my skin, but when night came, he would come to me to make more. He would bite me until my skin broke, suck me until my skin burned, and fuck me until I bled, and it was when I died that I could finally return back to reality. But when I returned back to reality with lungs burning from panting, that I realised the most sorrowful truth: I could never escape him.

.

My solution "Use Kenny as the Eric Cartman Repellent" had been working for a few of months. Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas and a fucking New Year (Kenny gave me his white, baggy beanie as a present since I wore it all the time anyway).

Although the nights still haunted me, I still had the day to let myself breathe, and that breath was always filled with Kenny's scent. It wasn't until a snow overed South Park and the deep winter came that I noticed one single flaw in my plan.

I was standing by Kenny's orange truck, breath dyed in thick white, waiting for the blond like every morning to come out and drive us to school, when I finally received his text.

"_Sorry, can't make it to school today. You'll have to go without me."_

I flung my head up to stare at Kenny's apartment window as if he was there, looking down on me.

"_What! Why?"_

"_I'm sick. Don't worry, I'll get better over the weekend."_

When I read the message I bolted for the stairs and arrived at his door, knocking on it frantically.

'Kenny! Kenny! Open up! Kenny!'

The door creaked open, revealing a very pale, very weak blond staring down at me with unfocused eyes.

'Kyle… You'll be late for school…'

I ignored his words and stumped into his house, but my feet quickly slowed to a halt in shock.

'Dude, it's fucking freezing in here…'

'Well, it doesn't have the best installation, as you know.'

'How about the heater?'

'Ah… I haven't turned it on yet…'

It was the first thing I did without a time for breath, starting the heater up while Kenny stood behind me watching me work. To be honest, it was a way of distracting Kenny from the fact that I was _here_, instead of school. It didn't work though.

'Kyle, shouldn't you be at school?'

I answered by silence, and watched the heater glow.

'Kyle, you'll be late—'

'I'm staying here.'

'What!' he said as loudly as his burning throat could muster, 'No, you're not Kyle. Now go to school!'

'I don't want to!'

'Why! Just because I'm, not, there…' he words slowed and his eyes widened as if hitting realisation. 'What's wrong if I'm not there? What is it Kyle? Does it have something to do with the photos you showed me?'

My heart began to race, but the air was as cold as ever. I couldn't breathe; the pressure of Kenny's words didn't let me.

'Kyle! Answer me!'

I bolted out of Kenny's apartment, his painful call doing nothing to stop my fearing feet. He normally didn't ask me anything, but when I got too obvious, when I showed any chance that would let Kenny confront me, he would take it. And I couldn't let him do that.

I didn't stop running until I reached school. Oh school. Some eyes widened as they saw me enter the classroom with bated breaths. But their eyes weren't widened at the state of my arousal; they were alarmed because beside me, there wasn't Kenny. And among the crowd of alerted, curious, and bored faces there was one face that grew a thin long smile in pleasure.

The morning sun shone through the frosted windows warming the whole classroom with its bright rays. This was not a nightmare; it was reality. And in reality, you can't wake up to run away from the pain; there is only unconsciousness to run away to.

When Eric entered my visual field, it was enough to make my heart jump and stop my breath. When Eric entered my ten-metre radius it was enough to make me shake. So what happened when Eric touched me?

My whole mind shut down when I felt a strong grip on my arm. When I realised who it was my reaction was to try and desperately scrape the fingers off my arm, but to no avail. My heart raced, my temperature dropped and my pupils dilated, but my whole body quickly fell limp in resignation. My feet pondered behind in the direction Eric pulled me, through the hallway and up the stairs into our little room.

It was cold again, colder than Kenny's apartment in the early hours of the frosty morning.

The grip on my arm loosened when we arrived to the fourth floor bathroom. I stood there like a broken doll, feeling his eyes slowly lick me from head to bottom, listening to his excited breaths warm the winter air trapped in the bathroom.

'Long time no see Kyle,' it was a while since I heard his voice. But it didn't affect me as I stood there shaking inside my own pathetic arms. It wasn't because of the cold, to let you know.

'I missed you so much—'

A painful explosion in my gut form Eric's fist caused me to crush from my knees under. But just before I could hit the ground, thick arms caught me, tilting my painful body up so that lips could collide onto mine. The acid in my stomach turned, but more than that, a strong bolt of electricity shocked my brain at the contact, sending in flashes of memory throughout every inch of my body. My arms flung in the air, causing Eric to let go of me and take a step away. But that only caused his smile to grow in pleasure, as if he had just remembered why I was so panicked in fear.

'Ah… do you remember our last encounter Kyle? It was beautiful wasn't it? I saw you crumble before my eyes.' He took a step forward, pushing me away like repulsing magnets as he talked. 'I was hoping to see you again during the holidays. I thought about you every day you know? Wondering how you were doing. I even went to your house a few times, but you were never home.'

He kneed me in the stomach after a few more steps, not catching me as I fell to the freezing floor this time.

'But you were with that no good poor son of a bitch weren't you? The whole time. I saw you.'

A few more kicks here and there with satisfying grunts released from his nose with every blow to my skin.

'You ran to him. Like the little bitch that you are.'

He was kicking me frantically by then, legs dominated by burning rage, sending blow after blow of breaking pain into my stomach, chest and back. I was quickly going numb and nauseous, and that was when he saddled me and bit my shoulder, digging his teeth into my flesh and making me scream, which he caught in his palm.

A few more blows were sent into my stomach, and then to finish me off, his hands wrapped around my skinny neck, squeezing with all his might. My body was already numb, my mind was already on the cliff of consciousness. It didn't take me long to fall off the edge and into the dark pits of unconsciousness.

It had been almost half a year since the last time I got bashed up so badly. He didn't do anything sexual to me, if that was what you were wondering. Only one deep bite on my right shoulder: that was it. It hurt though, really, nonetheless. Picking up my phone that had somehow ended up on the floor was not done without an agonising groan. Walking each step was like another blow to the stomach, and it was another thousand of them or so until I reached Kenny's house.

He had forgotten to lock the house, but I didn't think much of it. I pondered in with a floating mind until I finally reached his mattress and collapsed beside him. The impact woke the blond up as if a balloon had just been popped beside him.

'Wha— Kyle?'

I had my eyes closed already, letting my bruised up body melt into the softness underneath, so I couldn't see Kenny's shocked and surprised expression.

'I'm staying here tonight…' my lips moved to my quiet voice, 'Can you call my parents and tell them that?' I handed him my phone with my eyes still closed and he took it without saying anything.

'Hey, you've got a message,' he said on the other side of my closed eyes.

'My dad or mom?' No one else had my number, except for Kenny.

'I don't know, it doesn't say.'

I opened my eyes in confusion and took the phone, looking at the text message on the screen. There was only one word.

"_Hi"_

I looked at the number, but it was nothing I had seen before.

'It's probably a mistake,' I said, passing the phone to Kenny again and falling back into the mattress.

I heard the sound of more buttons being pressed: the sound of Kenny calling my home.

'Hello, Sheila? Yeah, this is Kenny. Yeah, good thanks, you? Cool. Anyway, Kyle says that he's going to stay here today, that's cool right? …yeah. Ha, ha. Yeah… Well, have a good evening.'

The phone was placed on the floor, and Kenny moved along the sheets to wrap his arms around me.

'You know, I'm sick so we probably shouldn't be sleeping so close to each other,' he grinned as he brought me closer to his torso by his hands around my hips.

'So don't hold me so close then.'

'But it's so cold—'

Painfully, I turned onto my side to stare into Kenny's smiling eyes, and then I wrapped my arms around him too. He was right. It _was_ cold.

'Your mom's pretty okay with you staying here now isn't she?' Kenny whispered.

'I stay here more than half the week, and I've been doing it since the summer Kenny. Of course she would be okay with it by now.'

'Yeah. She said she remembered when you were still small, and you stayed at Stan's house about the same amount. Maybe not as much though.'

'Yeah…' My eyes were closed, but I could tell that Kenny was looking at me intently, still smiling. But then that warmth in his smile slightly dropped.

'Are we friends Kyle?'

I opened my eyes slightly in surprise, but quickly shut them again.

'Of course we are.'

We fell into a short silence. I could tell his heart slightly quicken its beat; you feel things like that when you are that close together. But I was too tired to think much of it. And then, as if his heart had stopped as well, the quiet became numbing, letting Kenny's words drift to my tired ears so clearly.

'Are we more than friends?'

My eyes opened again, letting the sight of Kenny's chest rise and fall enter my vision. But I closed them again, just as quickly.

'How can we be _more_ than _friends_?'

I said it as if it was something impossible, because at that time that was all I had and that was my world. The only way we could be more than what we were now it would have been to develop emotions, and that would mean letting go of my painkiller. I would be exposed to agonising pain.

Kenny didn't say anything, and in that silence, I fell asleep. A couple of hours later I finally woke up to make some soup for us and do some homework. Kenny was fast asleep still, not waking up by the sound of me sliding out of the bed.

A light ring twinkled through the air and I glanced at my phone glowing blue on the floor. Careful not to wake Kenny, I reached for the phone and flicked it open, clicking on the new text message.

"_Hi"_

It was from the unknown number again. Strange, I thought, maybe the mobile company resent it by mistake. They did shit like that. So I deleted it without a thought and got up from the mattress. That was when my phone vibrated and glowed blue again in my hand.

Another message…

I opened it without thought, and this time, nearly dropped the phone to the freezing floor. My heart began to pound heavily along with my shaking breath and widening eyes as if I was in slow motion.

"_Hi Kyle"_

I glanced at Kenny, still sleeping peacefully in bed with his breath as calm and quiet as a sick person could be, and then back at the text message on my phone. With quivering fingers I typed in a message.

"_Who is this?"_

"_You know who it is"_

The answer was instant, almost automatic, not giving me a chance to calm my heart or breath. Despair overcame me, because the sender was absolutely right. I knew who it was, and that was why I felt so helpless.

I turned to Kenny with eyes burning and forehead throbbing, lips and chin shaking as if desperate not to let out a sob. He was still sleeping, not knowing a thing, not knowing how much I needed him right now. After all, he was my only help, and I didn't give him a chance to do so. And as I stood there in the darkness with the blue glow of my phone being the only source of light, I really felt as if all hope was lost.

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**A.N- Thank you for reading, and some extra love for reviewing**—** I'm sorry this story is getting really long, (seventeenth chapter now) but it **_**will**_** end. Some day…**


	15. Chapter 15

**A.N- Thank you for reading/reviewing (insert heart here). **

**Another painful chapter. Skip through it when it comes if you want. **

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Step 56: Question

_Chapter Fifteen: Blue Devil_

It was not until Kenny woke up that I was finally able to snap my mind back into function. It was because his voice was so hoarse from talking to me even though he was sick, the pain and desperation to call out my name, that I was able to notice it and return to reality.

'Kyle…'

I might had stood there for an hour, just standing there, in the midst of the night's freezing shadow where the moonlight from the window couldn't reach. And slowly, with movements of a broken puppet, I turned towards Kenny who was trying to lean his sick body up from the mattress.

'What's wrong?' The words scraped his throat.

'Nothing, I—' I slid the phone into my pocket, 'I was just about to cook dinner actually. You think you can eat soup?'

He smiled as warmly as he could muster, 'Soup would be great.'

Liar, I thought as I smiled back before going to turn the light on. I knew he was lying because no one in the world knew better than him how bad I was at cooking, and I don't think he was sick enough to forget that little fact he learnt over the summer. I tried to make the soup as best as I could though, at least, good enough so that he wouldn't need to be sent to hospital.

I simply put in all the vegetables there were in the house in chicken stock with some chopped up spaghetti. And surprisingly, it didn't taste as bad as I thought it would after I put in some pepper and salt, almost burnt my tongue though.

'Hey, Ken, your soup's ready…' I called as I walked carefully to the bed with the bowl of soup in my hands, trying the keep the liquid inside.

'Thanks…' he smiled, leaning up again. But as he reached for the soup in my hands, he noticed something strange… 'Did you just call me Ken?'

I blinked, 'Did I?'

'Yeah, you did.'

I don't know why such a simple thing caused me to blush, but it did.

'Shut up and eat your fucking soup,' I muttered as I handed the bowl out, but Kenny only looked at it with a considering gaze, then looked up at me, showing me his palms.

'I'm too weak to hold the bowl,' he grinned.

I scoffed in disbelief, but looking into those skilled puppy-dog eyes what could you I have done. He was a sick person, after all.

'Here,' I said, taking a spoonful of soup and bringing it to his mouth. But his grin only widened.

'It's too hot.'

I sighed exasperatingly, but gently blew the hot soup to cool nonetheless before taking it to Kenny's mouth again.

He ate it this time, and the next time and the next without complaint.

'It's good Kyle,' he murmured in between the fifth and sixth mouthful.

'Don't lie to me,' but I felt relief, and a strange sense of happiness. I would go buy some more ingredients tomorrow and make more, I thought. I would make this fucker all better over the weekend.

But even though Kenny said it was good, he began to have trouble eating towards the end, beginning to knock his head up and down near to sleep.

'Kenny wake up you need to finish this!'

'Mmm-mmm…' he grunted, still knocked off into unconsciousness.

'You hadn't eaten all day you need to at least finish this much soup!'

'Mmm…'

I twitched my eyebrow in frustration and jumped onto the bed with the soup, straddling the ill like a horse.

'Open your mouth Kenny,' I ordered, bringing the spoon to his lips. But all he did was grunt again, only with a playful grin on his lips that made me thin my eyes in irritation.

'Come on Kenny, don't play around!' But still I received nothing. '_Open your fucking mouth_!'

My voice and my words mixed in with another and echoed fiercely in my head. I flung my eyes wide in shock and dropped the spoon in the bowl in a trance.

I heard Kenny's confused voice in the distance, but it didn't reach my ears.

—_Open that pretty little mouth of yours…_

Eric's voice said to me as I straddled Kenny with the bowl of soup.

—_So that I can rape your fucking mouth…_

I got off Kenny quickly, like an automatic reaction, fearful of the voice that was still echoing in my head. But when I left Kenny's warmth and touched the cold floor with my two feet the voice finally began to disappear.

'Kyle, I'm sorry. I'll eat the rest.' Kenny's voice welcomed me back to consciousness, accompanied with worried eyes. I nodded and gave him the bowl, not watching him frown slightly.

'Aren't you going to feed me anymore?'

'You can feed yourself.'

I wondered around with my shaking feet, until I reached the window and slid it open, floating myself onto the balcony to let the snowy wind cool my mind. I was panting, breath, thick and white, releasing into the cold, dark night.

'Kyle?' The balcony door slid open, the unexpected sound and voice making me turn back.

'Kenny, what are you doing! Get inside before you die!'

But he only looked at me, with a soft smile that couldn't hide the worry, or even sorrow, in his icy-blue eyes. 'You'll catch a cold before I do,' he said, wrapping his fevered arms around me.

I sighed slightly but didn't shake him away.

'Hey look!' his hoarse breath managed, 'A shooting star!'

'Really?' I flung my eyes up into the clear winter sky.

'No,' he admitted shamefully. 'But it would have been a cool cliché if it did, huh?'

I looked up into the sky one more time, still unable to flick the thought of a shooting star out of my head. But still, there was nothing. Nothing to wish upon.

'Come on Kyle. Let's go inside…'

But even as Kenny tugged me into the house, my head was twisted back, eyes still searching the wide, twinkling sky.

.

By the next day, the text from the unknown number had been pushed to the deepest part of my brain and it was as if I had completely forgotten about it. I woke up in Kenny's arms, noticing that his heat had gone down just slightly over the night, and sighed in weak relief.

Thick clouds had swept over South Park over the night and through the day, the sky turning silver and heavy, like iron above me, as I made my way to the shops. But the snow that fell from the sky was soft, with not much wind to freeze my body shaking underneath Kenny's clothes. The soup that I made the previous night was finished by lunch, and I was out on my way to get more ingredients for dinner. Despite Kenny claiming that he was feeling better, I still didn't want him to eat anything heavy. And soup was about the only thing I could cook.

By the time I left the shop with two white plastic bags in my hand, the snow had gone a little thicker. In the distance there were a series of snowmen, like a family, being built by two kids. In other towns I may had to worry that those snowmen would be melted to the ground by the morning, but in South Park, there was no worry for that. They would be there for another few months without doubt, unless more snow covered them. The sight made me smile weakly nonetheless, and somehow, it made me slightly excited about going back to Kenny's house to cook him soup.

But it was at that moment that my phone vibrated against my thigh, a soft ring travelling through the snowy air. I flicked my phone open for the new text without much thought or suspicion; I didn't get my heart ready for what was coming.

"_Come to my house now."_

My vegetable-filled plastic bags fell to the snow as I shook in my baggy coat and stared at the blue screen with wide eyes.

"_Why?"_ I screamed the question in my head and pressed send.

"_Because I said so."_

I gulped as I sent the next message.

"_No."_

I stood there in the snow, waiting for the next message to come with unblinking eyes. But when the message came there were no words, just one attachment: just one picture.

It was me, naked, spread across the floor all bruised up with offensive writing all over my back. It was the photo that threatened me to not befriend Stan anymore. It was the photo Eric stole from me when a pile of them fell out from my locker.

I knew what that text meant. When the shock of the photo wore off and the message sank into my head, coldness swept through me along with a strong burn inside my ribs.

I looked ahead one more time, with a sense of despair now crawling upon my heart, something that wasn't there only a second ago. The four snowmen stared in all opposite directions, their eyes, made from red Christmas berries were somewhat droopy, along with their crooked smiles made by the same bright red dots. Somehow, under their emotionless smiles they seemed like they were hiding something, hiding a very deep emotion. Hiding sorrow. Sorrow for me.

My feet slowly pondered through the snow, but my destination wasn't Kenny's house anymore. It was Eric's.

It had been a couple of years or more since I went to his house, but it was as if I had never been there before. It was so foreign. It took me a whole minute to gather the courage to knock on his door, well aware that I had the option: the option that I could turn and walk away. It was there, it existed, but not to me.

I knocked three times.

'Oh my! Well, hello Kyle!'

It was Liane, Eric's mother, who welcomed me into the Cartman's residence. It was such a conflicting experience, to be welcomed into what I would regard as, well, the Devil's lair, by the most beautiful woman with the ablity to capture the heart of anyone with her unconditional love and kindness. Yet, sometimes it was that love and kindness that was the flaw of her.

'My, it must have been nearly three years since I've seen you here Kyle. It is such a wonderful surprise.'

Sometimes, I wondered how such a kind-hearted mother, the pure modern version of Virgin Mary (although she was the furthest thing a woman could be from a virgin, if you know what I mean), could raise such a monster. Maybe it wasn't her fault at all, although her all-forgiving nature may have contributed, that Eric had turned out to be what he was. Maybe Eric was born like that, that it was inevitable for what he had become.

'I wonder where Eric is. He must be in his room. I'll call him—'

'No need mom…'

My heart pounded at the sound of the creaking stairs that harmonised so horrifically perfectly with his calm, slicing voice. With movements, crooked with fear, I turned to where the sound had come from, and met Eric's smoky eyes.

'Hello Kyle.'

I gulped, the two plastic bags subtly rustling in my shaking grip. I pretended to nod in respond by dropping my head and eyes to the ground, hoping that Liane wouldn't be able to hear my pounding heart inside my ribs. I could hear Eric smirk at my reaction.

'I'll go make something to drink,' Eric said to my surprise and quickly leaving the room for the kitchen, gaining a praise of how considerable he was from his mother. He came back soon enough though, too soon for my liking, with three cups of coffee.

'Um, I don't think I need any…' I mumbled quietly as Eric placed a cup in front of me.

'Oh, but it's very nice coffee, Kyle,' Liane urged as she sipped on her cup.

'Yeah. It'll be a shame to waste.' Eric grinned. _Waste._ Fucking drill my least favourite word into me will you?

I sipped on it, challengingly, which only grew Eric's grin, but also built up some of my worthless confidence.

'Hey mom,' after a few minutes of conversations Eric leaned over the kitchen table slightly to urge closer to his mother, 'would it be possible for you to make some of your awesome casseroles for dinner?'

'Oh, but I was planning to make stew for tonight, Hun.'

'Please, mom! You could make casserole stew?'

'Oh, okay. I'll have to get some meat though…'

'Get some from Bairnsdale. They have the best quality.'

'In that case I have to go quick!' Liane smiled happily at her son's request and almost jumped off the chair, leaving the half-drunk coffee on the table. 'I'm sorry I couldn't prepare anything to eat Kyle. But you are free to stay for dinner and I'm sure Eric will prepare something nice for you—'

'Oh don't worry, I will,' Eric smiled his thin lips at me behind his mother, only so that I could see.

Liane smiled at Eric thankfully and gave me one gentle rub on the arm before turning to leave the house. The front door shut behind her within ten seconds, and I was left alone with Eric in that cold, quiet house.

'Is there a reason why you just made your mom go to Bairnsdale?' I murmured with disgust as Eric got up from his chair and turned to the staircase. He simply grinned at me, before turning back to walk up the steps. Of course there was a reason. Who was I kidding?

'Come!' He called, and without protest, my feet followed his path.

'What are those plastic bags for anyway?' I jumped as Eric shut his bedroom door behind me, 'You cooking or something?'

'Just some soup for…' my throat choked on the name, a defence mechanism to not mention him in front of Eric. But he knew who I meant, from the twitch in his eyebrow, I could tell. There were questions inside him, worming in his stomach. But strangely, he didn't voice any of them. After everything he had forced upon me, he failed to force upon questions. Or maybe, they were not necessary. Understanding of each other was not necessary in this dominating relationship of violation.

Silence followed, with me about to break down under the exploding sound of my heart and Eric relaxingly letting the sound relieve his senses. I don't know how long we stood there for, under that excruciating pressure, but when Eric finally took one step towards me, I instantly thought that that pressure was much better than what was going to come.

I was surrounded by the smell of Eric Cartman, and suddenly, that realisation hit me that there was no way out. I knew that, as I habitually walked backwards as Eric moved towards me, that I would eventually hit the wall, and would be trapped with no where to hide from him.

My back hit the wall when Eric extended his hand, and when his skin brushed against my neck, it was as if his hand was making my blood boil in my veins. My pounding heart began to quicken along with my breaths, and the heat from his hand rushed to the different parts of my body. First, to my lips, which he quickly began to ravish.

An electricity of twirling dizziness shot through my head, but I was quick enough to gain my control and push Eric away with all the force I could muster. Confusion overcame me. The pace of my heartbeat was continuing to escalate, my heat rising and my breaths panting, only stopping, when I met Eric's eyes, burning with rage hidden inside his frustrated gaze.

His hand yanked at my wrist, making me yelp as he threw me onto his bed, the springs creaking as Eric quickly crawled on top of me, looking down into my eyes with a growing grin.

'How are you feeling, Kyle?'

It was almost hard to hear him under my own breaths and dizzy mind. His grin grew with my silence, but still, I couldn't talk.

'I feel… weird…' I finally managed monotonously through a murmur, wanting to break the frozen gaze shared between us.

'What kind of weird?'

I bit on my lip, and slowly shook my head from side to side, desperate for tears not to leak out of me. My brain felt like it was one big knot, so confused that it was almost painful. There was another twitch in Eric's eye, a warning, before he yanked my pants down and my shirt up, tearing a quiet scream out of me. He welcomed the sight with a satisfied chuckle.

'Well, you can easily see what kind of weird you're talking about here…' Eric murmured, bending my knees and lifting my shins into the air, exposing the private parts of my body humiliatingly.

'The coffee?' my breath shook, hardly able to form my own voice. But Eric only smiled at that question, before leaning his head down to take a long lick of my member. A screeching moan left me as he did, making him chuckle amusingly.

'It works better than you'd imagine doesn't it? I got it from my mom's bathroom.'

But I was busy panting and trying to keep my mind screwed in reality before doing something that I would regret for the rest of my life, and through that I was able to manage, 'Fuck you… you sick…'

I felt something cold touch the tip of my cock and gasped into a silence. But then it turned into something so uncomfortable, I almost yelled.

'What the fuck is that!'

'It's a cockring Kyle. It looks good on you,' Eric laughed, playing with my head with the tip of his finger. I groaned and tried to twist in his hold, but without being able to move an inch.

'Get it off!' I yelled, continuing my struggle to get the painful thing off, 'Get the fucking thing _OFF_!'

I felt like I was about to explode, combust from the inside out. The excruciating feeling of Eric's finger brushing against my erection, tightening inside the metal ring, almost pleading on its own to Eric so that I could cum already.

'Please get it off Eric, I… I need… it…' My body jumped and whimpered with each of Eric's teasing touches. By this time he had managed to take off most of his clothes along with flinging mine off to the ground as well.

'What?' He said, biting my nipple, making me emit a sound between a yelp and a groan. But now I was so desperate under the uncontrollable whimpering of my body, I couldn't form words. 'What do you _need_ Kyle?' Eric asked again, but still I kept quiet.

He dropped his smile and leaned up, looking down on me.

'You know what, Kyle?'

My legs were lifted into the air, exposing myself again clear to Eric, and then I felt something brush against my hole, making my painful dick jump.

'If you beg for it, I'll give you what you want—'

'What!' I felt his cock brush against me again and my voice of disbelief melted into a moan.

'That's right Kyle…' his voice was soft and warm, 'If you ask, I'll give it to you. Ask me, just like you asked Kenny, and I'll take the ring off, and you'll be able to release all you want… You will feel… Oh, so much better…'

A sob escaped my mouth as I closed my eyes in resignation, a sob of despair and sorrow, and undeniable hunger. I felt as if I was a starving Eve being seduced by the snake for a single fruit. But I knew its sin and consequences, yet I was unable to deny the offer. A small twist to the classical story: I already had the knowledge. I will be an undeniable and unforgiveable sinner…

'Fuck me…' my voice was the whisper of an insect, words dying under the shaking of my lips. And insanity, I opened my mouth wider, clearing my throat so the words, the beg, was perfect and clear.

'Fuck me Eric! Fuck me, please!'

I felt the ring slowly being slid off my solid cock, but before I could take a breath of relief, a finger slid into me. Slowly massaging me and opening me up, he slid in another, and another, slowly, until he was satisfied.

'As you wish.'

He leaned his palms into my knees, pushing my thighs into my chest, and did as I begged him to.

He fucked me.

Tears were streaming down as he did, unable to even think of controlling them. They came and they came with each thrust Eric tore into me. The deepest sadness and pain being shot into me for the greatest defeat I could have ever suffered. And I was crying tears that I didn't deserve, because that was what I begged for. I had begged for death. I had dug my grave; now, I had to die in it.

Like a symphony in my mind, a whole chorus played the old requiem. The song of death, like the first time, tried to overtake my mind.

Eric's grunts above me were filled with ecstasy, the pure pleasure of victory were felt with every time he thrust, even being able to make me moan underneath him when he pounded the right way with enough strength.

What Eric had given me was powerful, the drug, I mean. Once wasn't enough. But if there was one thing I swore upon my life that hour of that day it was to never beg Eric for anything ever again. But the next time, he didn't even need my confirmation. Listening to me screech my tears out he flipped me over and fucked me again, eyes rolling to the back of his head with each time he killed me. It was a few times of torturous pleasure and death before he finally collapsed, almost unconscious, on top of me. His dick was still inside, wrapped in the full condom, as he lied on my naked back and panted against my neck drenched in sweat and tears.

The requiem slowly died off, and my senses began to return to my body. I could hear, and I could feel, once again.

And then, under his fierce panting and the sound of my streaming tears, his burning heat sinking into every part of my body, I heard him. I heard him say those most horrific, painful and terrorising words I could ever imagine come from his mouth.

'I love you…'

My eyes shot wide, heart, breath, blood, all instantly freezing to a stop inside my body in the most terrible shock. I disbelieved my ears in desperation for it to have been a hallucination. But it wasn't. I knew that. The truth was too painful to deny.

Limping again, I managed to slip out from underneath the unconscious Eric, wrap myself in my clothes and pick up the two plastic bags filled with the ingredients I had planned to make Kenny's soup with. For some reason, there was an exploding urge inside me to break down and apologise to those two plastic bags and beg for their forgiveness. I didn't know why, but the urge was maddening.

The snow had continued to strengthen over the time, but that small fact didn't seem to register in my head as I limped out of Eric's house. Even as the snow leaked through Kenny's pants and into my skin, the fact didn't register, because I was only thinking of one thing.

—_What did just happen_? _Did I— Did I just beg Eric to fuck me? _

My breath began to quicken as my mind rushed through the thoughts.

—Did he do that, drugged me and bondage me to make me beg? Like I did to Kenny? To copy what I did to another guy? No… He didn't just copy it. He rewrote it. He rewrote over the fact that I begged Kenny with the fact that I have now begged him…

And in the background, like a broken record in my mind I heard his three words. His three words that I wished for them to have been words of a lie. Because he couldn't have had such feelings for me. Not after all that he had done. Not after torturing me for over two years. Not after killing me so many times.

Love couldn't do such a thing.

.

My mind didn't register the cold as I limped my way through the heavy snow twirling around me festively. But when I slid my spare key into Kenny's door lock and creaked the door open, the warmth that wrapped me in its arms and pulled me into the house was immense. It felt like I was hugged by the colour orange.

'Kyle!' Kenny got up from his bed and rushed over to me, his voice much better now as he called my name. 'You were out for hours I was getting worried about you! Did you get stuck in the snow?'

Hollowly, I gazed into his vibrant icy-blue eye, filled with emotions that were all sorely directed at me. Yet I was there, standing blankly with the mechanics that produces emotions somehow broken down.

'I'm going to have a shower…' I muttered as I slid past him. He probably thought it was to get warmed up from walking through the nasty snow, so he didn't say anything.

I couldn't fucking believe it, as in, I couldn't fucking believe how low I could get. Even after being fucked by Eric numerous times, screaming as he did, I was still hard. And with just simple contact, a squeeze of the shoulders from Kenny, my erection had grown.

I felt so miserable. I felt like slitting myself again. I wanted to cut my dick off that made me beg Eric to fuck me. I wanted to throw it all up; the deep organs that Eric had touched, squeezed, and violated. I wanted to cut my wrists open and drain out all the blood that he had sucked and spat back into my veins. But in the end, more than anything, I wanted _nothing_.

'Hey Kyle, feeling better now?'

'Yeah,' I murmured as I picked up the plastic bags I had left on the ground. 'You sound better too.'

'I feel better as well!' Kenny grinned his perfect teeth at me, but with a followed painful cough, which made me cringe with hurt for some reason. But I tried to smile as I walked across to the kitchen area.

'Kyle?' I hummed softly at Kenny's questioning call, 'You're limping again…'

I chocked on my voice for a second, but quickly regained it before he could suspect anything.

'Slipped on the snow.'

'Ah… do you need to ice up anything?'

'No,' I answered as I began chopping up some of the vegetables. Kenny closed his mouth as I began to cook, opening his ears to the sound of me working away in his kitchen.

I took the bottle of Cayenne pepper and dropped a few sprinkles into the soup, hoping the spiciness would make Kenny sweat the sickness out of him, but careful not to kill the flavours of the soup at the same time. But when I took a spoonful of the soup to check the taste, I noticed something utterly wrong.

The spoon fell out of my fingers frozen in shock and cluttered against the kitchen bench.

'What's wrong?' Kenny's worried voice brought me out of my perplexed state, making me blink furiously as I tried to understand what had just happened.

'Nothing—'

I picked up the spoon with a new mindset and took another spoonful of the soup and brought it to my mouth. But yet again, I ended up with the same conclusion. Disbelief overcame me, and I took the Cayenne pepper and toppled in a few more spoons worth of the spicy powder and retasted it, but still nothing changed.

Slowly, I turned back and met Kenny's wide eyes. He was now standing right behind me, staring at me with confusion and worry.

'Kenny… I can't taste anything…'

'What?'

I took a spoonful of the soup and shakily handed the spoon to Kenny, who took it, and threw the liquid in his mouth with his eyes still fixed on me, not suspecting a thing. The next second he thrust his arm in the air and swore. And then he quickly brought his fist to his mouth to try and calm himself down with glistening eyes.

'Kyle, no offense, but that is so fucking hot…'

'Is it?'

I took the spoon from him and tasted it again, but failed to notice any spec of taste. I noticed Kenny blink behind me in shock.

'You seriously can't taste that?'

'No.'

'Can you taste _anything_?'

'No.'

Silence followed. Words sucked out of Kenny, lost in how to react. He probably thought that I was more shocked than him, terrified about the fact and became sensitive, but no. I stared at the soup bubbling in the heat with a cold pit inside me that couldn't produce any emotion towards the newly discovered fact.

'Maybe you should go to the doctors,' Kenny suggested as he kindly ate my soup without another word of complaint, 'maybe they can help.'

'Yeah…' I mumbled, although I knew that the doctors would be one of the last people I would have gone to. But there was a name that came up in my mind, Sophie Rogers, which I hadn't gone to since the holidays.

'What do you think caused it?' Kenny continued, trying to squeeze words out of my heavy lips. 'Like, you haven't become sick lately or anything, so—'

'Stress…'

'Huh?'

I looked at him, then looked back down.

'Maybe it's stress…' I murmured. I heard the sound of Kenny stopping his eating hand and I regretted what I had just said. But what I felt next, instead of questions I thought that he would drown me in, were warm hands that gently wrapped around me.

'Kyle,' he quietly began, 'I know you haven't been the happiest now. I mean, the only person you hang out with at school is me. That must suck.'

I didn't say anything, but wrapped my arms around him instead.

The lights switched off suddenly, probably from the strengthening snow, but we merely gasped quietly in surprise. It let us focus on each other's warmth as we sank into the deep, calm darkness.

'Tell me one good thing that happened to you today.' Kenny whispered, careful not to disturb the calm.

'What do you mean?' —_good_?

'There must be at least one good thing that happened to you today. There always is. Let's just focus on that.'

I breathed in quivering thought. Good, was such a foreign concept in a day to me; it was hard to find something. Especially that day where everything felt like it came crushing down. So I focused on the earlier hours, before I died.

'When I came out of the supermarket,' I began slowly, 'there were these kids making snowmen. There were four, like a family, or… or like a group of friends…'

My eyes slowly became used to the dark, and I was able to make out Kenny's gentle blue orbs close to me.

'They were cute.' I finished.

I knew it was a stupid story, or wasn't even happy. But it was the first thing that came to my mind, and it was the last thing, before everything came crushing down.

But Kenny lifted his lips into a smile when I finished the story.

'That's nice,' he said.

The words made me believe that it really was.

.

'Why, hello Kyle! So lovely to see you again.'

I was welcomed into Sophie Rogers' old office like every other time before with her gentle and delighted voice. The snow had calmed by the next day, to the point that transport was able to take me down to the city.

'How have you been?' She asked as she indicated me to take a seat on the couch.

'Good, I guess,' I muttered a civilised response. But rethought my answer when her gaze told me that she wasn't looking for anything "civilised". 'It was good until Friday,' I answered truthfully.

'What happened last Friday?' she asked the question I knew was coming.

'Well, until Friday, for like, three months now since school started, I hadn't been abused, or even confronted. It was because my friend was always with me. But then he got sick, and couldn't come to school, so I was vulnerable that day. And then _him_— he bashed me up, and stole the number of the new phone I got while I was unconscious.'

'And then, what happened?' Her voice was calm, as if she already knew the plot and was only waiting for me to say it with my own voice.

'I got a message from him that night, and then the next day, yesterday, he threatened me to go to his house and… And….' I bit and then licked my lips, unable to form the disgustful actions that followed into words. I breathed, listened to the quiet winds outside and felt the warmth of the room before producing anything more.

'When I came back, I lost my sense of taste. When I went back to my friend's house, I cooked soup for him and put in heaps of Cayenne pepper to help his sickness, but when I tried to taste, I couldn't taste anything. So I was wondering if you had any idea what it's all about and if you could help me.'

She looked at me, a firm frown sewn onto her lips as she let every single one of my words sink inter her head.

'Well, considering how much you have been through Kyle, it is most likely that your impairment of taste has been caused by severe stress. However, I am not a physical doctor so it will be much better for you to go to the doctors to get a proper check up—' she paused as she saw my whole expression drop in near despair at the word "doctors", and searched her mind for better information. 'Yet, I _have_ heard that zinc can help your disorder. Oysters, cocoa, peanuts… food which are high in zinc may be good.'

I smiled, or in reality, pursed my lips together as I nodded at her helpful words. But there was something else on my mind.

'But there is something else on your mind…'

Sophie Rogers' words lifted my head and I met her accepting eyes that had reached my inner, most deepest thoughts. Such acceptance shook my heart, and I looked down quickly with a tearing mind. And then, I nodded.

'Do you want to tell me?'

I shook my head frantically.

'Okay. That is okay, Kyle. You can tell me when you want to.'

What was on my mind— the three words Eric had told me the day before. But I couldn't tell her about that, not just yet. How could I have? How could I have when I couldn't even accept them myself? But the words didn't need my acceptance to violate my mind.

.

Kenny came and picked me up, his bright orange truck glowing in the snow of the monochrome scenery.

'So, what did the doctor say about your thing?'

'Go take some zinc,' I answered nonchalantly, 'drink coco, basically.'

And I did. Kenny made some for me once we got home. He made it in a pot and everything; even grated some dark chocolate on top, which I couldn't taste. He had the cooking skills worth of two people; that was why I was so shit at it.

'I think I would be able to go to school tomorrow,' Kenny said as he sipped on his own cup of coco next to me, our knees brushing together, 'I feel much better now. Sans the cough.'

It was the most relief that I had felt in days. So much, that I leaned up and kissed his ill cheek.

'You better be.'

Now I would be safe, so I thought. But reality always betrays your expectations, in the most brutal way. Don't get me wrong, Kenny's presence helped a lot, without him, I would have been exposed to abuse all the fucking time, and I would have to face it all alone. I probably would have never made it.

But still he couldn't help me forever, especially while having no idea with what was wrong, especially while I never told him.

It was during lunch, while our shoulders were stuck together as we sat under cover away from the snow, munching on our food, when I received that text message.

"_Come to the fourth floor bathroom. There's something I want to play for you."_

My heart pounded as I read the text, and pounded even more as I sent my response.

"_No."_

"_I could run it through the speakers if you want but I don't think you'll like that so much."_

Counting my blessings, preparing for the worst, I slid away from Kenny's warmth and made my way to the designated place. And when I arrived, he was already there, waiting with his thin smile pulling his lips up.

'What the fuck do you want?' I demanded before he could open his mouth to greet me as he usually did. I didn't want to hear _any_ words come from his mouth actually. I couldn't, without remembering the last three words I heard from him.

His smile grew, and he drew out his phone and waved it in the cold air.

'I just wanted to play something for you. That's all.'

A horrible bitterness tickled my stomach and I almost burst out laughing before my enemy. What the fuck was he talking about? What the fuck could there be that he wanted to play for me that would create such a disgusting smile on his lips?

But before I could let out my sarcastic laughter, and before I could say a single word that voiced my thoughts, he pressed a button on the phone waved in the air, and the most horrible, condemning sound echoed out of it.

I instantly recognised heavy breaths that almost radiated heat from the speakers, one of them being my own voice muffled and torn with hormones. It made my bitter smile slowly drop into the deep dark pits of trauma and fear and unforgiveable self-hatred.

"_Fuck me Eric! Fuck me, please!"_

My knees crashed onto the freezing tiles of the floor and I closed my ears as hard as I could with my two hands in agonising desperateness to cut off the voices that echoed disgustingly inside my head.

The voices instantly stopped though, with another _beep_ of the phone's buttons.

'You sounded pretty sincere there, didn't you Kyle? Did you want me that much?'

Why? Why was it? Why could I hear his voice so clearly even while I tried to shut my ears as strong as I could? I could even hear his lips widen further, almost splitting his face in half, even behind my closed eyes I could see it. So I didn't move, I didn't speak. I was so afraid to come to contact with reality, like I would shatter to pieces if I did.

He took that chance to grab onto the collar of my shirt and pull me up against the wall. I began screaming and slashing my arms through the air in resistance but when I did, he would press that one little button, and I will freeze in painful shock.

My recorded voices and breaths, the begging and the moaning played and echoed against the cold tiles of the bathroom as he began to kill me again. Sounds and voices were made that reflected and harmonised with the sounds playing from the speakers of the phone. He was killing me again with an expression of pure pleasure, hatred, rage and conquer. He killed me. The forth floor bathroom was my grave, and in Eric's arms was my Hell, right inside the Devil's passionate hold.

So this was what it was like be loved by the Devil.


	16. Chapter 16

'_When I noticed, I was drowning in my own possessive feeling_

_Flying this banner of egoism, I was talking of futile love _

_But I still love you_

_I love you like no other_

_I just want you to believe that'_

_-Ryujin Kiyoshi, "Itaiyo"_

Step 23: Accept

_Chapter Sixteen: Blue Valentines_

I wanted to kill him. The burning sensation of want, need and desire for his death was excruciating. I want to kill him I want to kill him I want to kill him I want to kill him I want to kill him I want to— …With every step I was screaming my lust for him.

Would it be a sin if I killed him? Someone who had killed me three times already, and who would kill me many times more? Would it really be a sin to kill such a person, such a _creature_?

Would it be a sin to kill my Devil?

.

Kenny was still at the spot where I left him, even after the lunch bell had gone. I limped across to him, not so noticeable now, I guess. It was an impossible thought that I wasn't limping as hard now, because it never got any better, but maybe, secretly, my body was getting used to it.

'Did you wait for me?' I asked in slight disbelief. While I was fucked again on the forth floor he was right here, waiting for me. I thought he would have left.

'Nah— I wasn't planning on going to my next session and I quite like it here—' I blinked at him as he pressed his lips together and looked at me nervously, 'Okay, no, I was kind of, actually, waiting for you.'

A smile ghosted across my lips, such an action close to a miracle considering how broken I was, stripped of my emotions. But he smiled happily in response. That was nice.

'I wasn't planning on going to next session either. I have a free anyway. Do you want to leave?'

'Yeah, that would be cool,' his grin widened, 'or we could go somewhere more fun.'

I thought for a second as I hopped into his car.

'Let's go get some hot chocolate. Time to get some zinc.'

He complied merrily, switching the car on.

As Kenny went ahead to order at Harbucks I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself with wet paper towels after making sure that no one was around. While I did, I switched my mind off again, because as I slid the paper towel along my arse and down my thighs, remembering Eric's touch was a horrible inevitability.

By the time I was done, the hot chocolates were ready and Kenny was standing outside with two cups warming him as he waited for me in the soft, quiet snow with a gentle smile on his lips.

Together, we went to the desolated park, coated with a layer of untouched snow, and sat on the swings side-by-side. I flinched as I sat down, like I did in the car, but this time Kenny noticed and asked me what was wrong. But as always, I answered with 'nothing'.

There was still no flavour that I could taste in my coco, but I was used to it by now, although it still scratched my conscious.

'So, where did you go just then at school, before we came here?' Kenny asked as we sipped on our hot drinks.

'To Hell and back,' I answered. He laughed at my response good heartedly, assuming that I was attempting at humour, something I didn't really do much, now.

'But seriously dude, what were you doing—'

'Hey Kenny…' I asked quietly, desperate to distract his focus from me to something else. And it worked; he shut up and focused on my words. 'Remember how you told me to tell you one good thing that happened in the day? How you told me that there was at least one good thing that happened every day no matter how small and unnoticeable?'

'Yeah, of course. You've been telling me one good thing that happened everyday since then.'

'Because you've been asking me everyday— I just… I want to know where you got that idea from.'

He blinked curiously, but began to trace back his memory for me nonetheless.

'It was kind of like, my mom that had told me that. When we were still in elementary, maybe even younger, I don't know, but it was when I was still confused why everyone had so much, like games and food and stuff, and we had nothing, eating frozen waffles and Pop Tarts every night. And so I asked her, why don't we have anything, straight out like that. If I had asked my dad he would have probably said that it was because we were dirt poor and not answer my question. But my mom was decent. She didn't answer my question but instead she said, "You don't have nothin'. Tell me one thing you _do_ have." I told her I had rats under the floorboards and she smiled and said proudly, "I bet none of your friends have them." It's weird, I know. But ever since then, when I was feeling down I would ask myself one thing I had, and feel remotely better.'

He looked at me with a slightly embarrassed smile, 'I guess that is where I got it from.'

I don't know why, but I was amazed. Amazed at his smile, his words, his voice, and the sparkle in his icy-blue eyes that always glimmered when he looked at me. It made me want to hear him more, something that previously never occurred to me.

'Where is your mom now?'

He looked at me curiously at that question, then sipped on his drink and narrowed his eyes in thought.

'Probably still in California, working as a preschool assistant. She's good with kids you know, no matter what you think. That's how me and my siblings grew up to be decent young fellas.'

'Is that where your dad is too? With your mom in California?'

He looked at me weirdly, but answered.

'Nah— he's a truck driver, dunno where the fuck he is now. He could be in Alaska for all I know. Haven't seen him in two years, or almost.'

'Why not?'

'Just, never bothered to keep in touch. Never wanted to. Never needed to. Well, I did travel with him for a few days since I couldn't stand California any more. But travelling with him was even worse. I begged him to drop me off, just— anywhere. And he dropped me off, nearly empty handed, in Alabama.'

'Alabama? How— how did you get by there?'

'Well, I was lucky enough. I was busking on the streets, you know, with singing, and then these two musicians picked me up, offered me a place to stay for the night, and I didn't leave for over a year.'

I was grinning brightly the whole time he talked, as if the sun of Alabama was caged inside his summer sky-blue eyes. You could tell that they captured good memories. Good memories while I was here in the midst of winter, in the grasp of the Devil. But strangely, I felt no bitterness about it. I almost felt bliss for his ignorance and happy memories. I was happy that he didn't know misery like I did.

'What did you do during that year?'

'Well,' Kenny urged his own enthusiastic voice, 'I worked at a local bar doing some gigs with the two musicians. One played the piano, the other the saxophone, and I did the vocals.'

'What did you sing?'

'Oh, you know what I like, jazz, blues, a lot of old songs. Like,_ fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars~ Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars~_'

He began to sing, with a gentle, yet strong melodic voice that I never imagine he could create through his mouth. It made me smile, like a natural cure.

'_In other words, hold my hand~'_ I joined in softly, _'In other words~ Darling, kiss me~'_

We chuckled as we finished the verse together, white bursts of breath twirling around us and floating into the sky. But the sound slowly melted into silence, bringing my thoughts to the surface and appearing before my eyes.

Because there was always one thing that I always wanted to truly know.

'Why did you leave South Park Kenny?'

He looked at me with eyes so pure and wide, as if his icy-blue eyes were transparent, like glass, like a window that seemed as if it did, but in reality did not completely, show his emotions and inner thoughts. But I could see, at least, that he was trapped in my question and my unblinking icy-green eyes.

But then a thought hit him, bringing him back to reality and out of his dreams.

'My parents were done with this town. They wanted to move out, and away, like, _far_ away, and they wanted to take me with them. Of course they did, I was like, what, thirteen?' He chuckled weakly, and from the humourlessness of it I could tell, that he knew that that wasn't what I was asking.

'No, Kenny, you know what I mean.' His laughter stopped as he stared at the ground. 'Why did you leave without a word to me?'

He pursed his lips together, and rolled them against each other as if I was pressing him against a wall, questioning him of his deepest secrets.

'You know— why are you asking me these questions. Like, I don't know… Why?'

He wasn't being rude, he was purely curious, and confused, and at that stage I had reached his defence line, right before his secrets. I had never asked him such questions before. Never asked about his time away from South Park, why he had left, and... Why he left without a word to me.

'I just want to know. About you, I guess…' I didn't know if those words were true, if they were to make him talk and focus on himself and not me. But they came out so naturally.

Kenny gaped at me, icy-blue eyes suddenly blooming with colour.

'You… want to know about me?'

'Sure… Why so amazed?' He was looking down, as if disbelieving the fact that he was breathing while looking at his own white breath floating out of his mouth.

'It's just— you never asked about me before, I thought you weren't interested. I thought you didn't care that much about me.'

'Well, just because I don't ask, or don't show it, doesn't mean I don't care. Because, I do.'

He looked up at me, deep into my blank eyes, then let out a single breath-filled laughter and slid his hand over his mouth.

'What's wrong?' I asked, suddenly confused, almost worried as he continued to press his palm over his lips.

'Nothing—' he said, and looked up into my eyes again, chuckling disbelievingly, 'I'm just so happy. Right now. I don't know what to do…'

I furrowed my eyebrows even further with a knotted mind.

'Well that's good isn't it? I'm glad that you're happy. I like it that you're happy.'

'You do?'

'Well of course. Your happiness is everything to me right now.'

—Because I don't have any happiness of my own, and I don't have anything else, no one else. That's why you're my everything.

And then I felt warmness rest on my cheek, and noticed it to be Kenny's hand. I flowed my eyes up, and Kenny's icy-blue orbs were looking down on me, so intensely, with deep sincerity and truth that he had never shown before, that he had always kept hidden under that habitual smile that he had now dropped.

Our lips connected; it was a form of communication, that he had created so sincerely, but I tried so desperately not to read.

And then that connection ended, so that he could voice those three words…

'Kyle, I love you.'

A thick chain wrapped around me, thick, heavy, and cold, that froze my body, my mind and my eyes, still at those words. They didn't let me respond, move, or speak, as he continued to talk.

'God, I have loved you since we were, like, eleven. I was going to tell you this earlier, like, years ago. I was going to tell you a few days before I left, when I dragged you out of your bed when you were being all emo-like. I thought there was nothing to lose, so I chose to tell you my feelings. But then… then you told me that you were gay. I was happy at first, almost with shock, with a sudden hope that maybe you liked me too. But no, you liked Stan. When I heard that, I thought there was no meaning to tell you. But it hurt, nonetheless. That's why I left, without saying anything...'

A hand rested on my frozen cheek again, and I was looking into his blue eyes, intense with serious determination as they stared into me. And then his lips moved for the second time, and as they did, my eyes began to widen, my brain began to function, and my emotions began to return…

'_Kyle, I love you—'_

The words, framed with his passionate voice mixed in with the thin voice burnt into my memory. They spoke together, harmonised, and then Kenny's soft lips overlapped with another pair that created the same words. Words that tormented me, violated me, and killed me. The words of—

'No!'

My arms pushed through the air in fear, hands hitting Kenny's chest and pushing him away from me. He bounced back a few steps at the impact before his words could dry on his lips. But I didn't look at his confused expression. I was panting; arms still in the air as I stared down with wide eyes, open with horror.

'Kyle?' Kenny asked carefully, observing me with worried eyes. 'Kyle, what's wrong?' His hand reached out—

'Don't touch me!' I flinched back automatically as I yelled and stepped away in fear, staring at him with unblinking eyes as if I was a wild baby animal, staring into the eyes of a hunter, a kind-hearted hunter.

But despite by piercing words, Kenny took another step forward with worried, and now hurtful eyes. His hand was still in the air, aiming to touch my skin, and as I looked at it creep in closer, I bolted. I kicked the ground in the opposite direction and sprinted away from Kenny, ignoring his desperate calls of my name.

Words, loud and desperate, like the cry of the horribly wounded tore through my head. I love you I love you I love you I love you! No! You can't! You can't love me! You care about me, keep me close, keep me warm. You are kind to me, gentle to me. You are my dearest friend. So you can't love me! Not like Eric does. Not like him. You can't be like him. He is my darkness, you are my light. You can't be like him…

When I reached the door to my house, silent streams of tears were flowing down my cheeks. My panting breaths were deafening as I stood there in front of that door with my thoughts, emotions, memories, and senses, all caught up in excruciating knots, torturing my mind and heart.

I had to talk to someone.

.

My body felt like it was shaking the whole time, but I didn't have the capacity to feel self-conscious as I waited for my stop in the bus. My mind was filled with the word love. Come to think of it, I had heard of it countless times. My parents had said it to me continuously since I was born, I have heard people say it in movies, TV shows, songs and read it in books.

So why did it sound like such a foreign word? Why did it sound like a death threat? In order to find some answers, or even the smallest of clues, I knocked on the door of Sophie Rogers' house.

It wasn't Jessie that welcomed me in that day, but Sophie Rogers herself. In her wheelchair, she reached up and undid the lock, letting me in. The first thing I saw when the door opened, was her face brighten up with pleasant surprise.

'Hello Kyle! Please, come in—' she said, waving her arm through the air to indicate my path.

'Thank you,' I said.

'Jessie isn't here I'm afraid; she's out to visit some friends. I made her, actually. Please, settle yourself in our usual room while I go make some coco.'

'Um, no, it's okay ma'am. Don't mind me—'

'Nonsense! You have been walking through this snow; you need a nice warm drink. I will be there in a jiffy.'

So, still shaking, I made my way to our usual room and placed my rigid self on the couch. It wasn't until Sophie Rogers entered the room that I felt like I could finally breathe out the nervousness.

'Thank you,' I said, taking the warm cup from her tray. But I couldn't drink it straight away. I stared in the cup, gentle fumes streaming into the air, with an absent mind, until Sophie Rogers' voice entered my ears.

'Still can't taste?'

I looked up alarmingly, and when I met her accepting smile, I looked down again, regretfully.

'No. I can't.'

My hands were still shaking, making the cup clutter against its saucer in a very frustrating way.

'Something happened, again, since the last time you were here Kyle. Do you want to tell me what happened?'

I looked into her eyes desperately The cluttering of the cup against the saucer rang like loud cymbals in my head, driving me insane. Yes, I did. I did want to tell her like crazy. That was why I came. Then why was it so hard to put the words in my head onto my tongue and voice them out?

So I nodded.

'It's okay Kyle; take your time. We have all day…'

I nodded again, and sipped on my coco automatically for distraction. It was still snowing outside, like it would never stop. Still it wasn't as bad there near the city, as it was on the higher mountains that you could see through the window. I stared outside at the falling snow with my hands wrapped around the warm cup of coco.

'He raped me again, yesterday. At school. And I didn't even protest…' she didn't interrupt, although I could feel her squint at my words. 'He played the recorded sounds from when he raped me before, and my body automatically shut down and couldn't move.'

Shut out my mind… Shut out my mind and just produce words.

'Afterwards, my friend, the one I always talk about, bought me some hot chocolate at a local café. We talked. I asked him about his life before he came to South Park because he left for a few years, see? And then, and then…'

I couldn't shut out my mind anymore. Emotion was overcoming me and it felt like my brain was growing in my skull in size, like bloating, threatening to explode from the inside out.

'He told me that he loved me…' I could feel my heart pounding in my ribs, but I couldn't hear it. All I could hear were my words. 'He told me that he loved me… BUT HE CAN'T!'

I looked up, from my cup on my lap to Sophie Rogers desperately, eyes wide and protesting for confirmation, some kind of agreement for my words. But I was talking to myself now, more than anyone; I wanted receive agreement from myself for my own words.

'He can't love me! He can't! Because— because…'

Something cold hit my brain, like drops from a closed tap; the sound echoed inside my head, the ripples expanding into infinite darkness calming my voice.

'Because that is what Eric said to me… After hearing me scream, after raping me… He said that he loved me. At first I thought that he couldn't love me, how could he? After torturing me so much, how could he! But then, I thought that maybe that was what love truly was. Maybe he had loved me all along. Eric…'

For a second, I saw him, like a ghost sitting next to me and looking straight back at me with his thin smile. He was sitting in the empty spot next to me on the couch, and began reaching his hand out to my cheek. But before it could touch my heat, he disappeared, and I continued to stare at that empty spot next to me as I talked.

'Love is what stole from me, love is what hurt me, punched me, kicked me… Love is what raped me, and love is what killed me, and what will continue to do so… So Kenny can't love me. Because he never did any of those things. He can't have the same emotion as Eric…'

My words came to an end, and it wasn't until I heard Sophie Rogers cough that I realised that I had been in a near-trance producing those words. I realised that there was someone nearby because I had been talking to myself the whole time.

'Kyle, thank you for sharing your thoughts and experiences with me. I see how much you have suffered, deeply, and still are… I'm astounded at how strong you have been, although… Although I do see that there is something, some problems in your cognition. It's understandable with how much you have experienced…'

I stared at her with wide eyes. She was calm, collected, but the warm acceptance around her was still present. Her eyes were glistening, tears about to fall from her eyes yet accepting that fact, accepting it as if it was okay for tears to fall from her eyes at any moment. It was strange to me, almost refreshing, since every single time I cried, I would end up hurting myself for it.

Sophie Rogers noticed me staring at her with slight bewilderment, and smiled, tapping her warm, wrinkled eyes free of tears. Her voice was still gentle, like it always was, as if showing her true concern even for her next words.

'Kyle, I don't think you can learn to accept others' and your own emotions until, and unless you deal with your assailant, Eric is it? Now, you are strongly determined that you will not confess these assaults? Even if it meant you further harm?'

Calmly, I nodded at the already decided fact, even while hearing the almost threatening concern and worry, almost hurt, in her voice.

'Then the only way you have left to deal with—Eric, is to understand him. Communicate with him. Ask him why he is doing such things.'

Rage slowly grew in my body as if it burnt and I stood up in disbelief, disgust and anger dominating my mind.

'_Understand him_?_ Communicate with him_? Are you fucking crazy! He doesn't have a reason, he's just a twisted, sadistic, _sick fuck_!'

'Then why did he say that he loved you?'

I looked at her with confusion, my chest rising and falling in the rhythm of my aggressive breaths.

'Huh?'

'If he doesn't have a reason and if he is only doing this to fulfil his sadistic pleasures, then why did he say that he loved you? Why would he say such a thing?'

'I—' my lips moved without words. And then completely lost in defeat, I collapsed back onto the couch, eyes in a daze. 'I— I don't know…'

I felt her nod across from me, in her usual accepting way.

'Yes, Kyle. I think that is why you need to try and build and understanding of this Eric, in order to find a way to deal with him, and also, to find a way to deal with the emotions and thought processes he has planted onto you.'

I looked up to her, exhausted somehow, from the sudden burst of emotion, and my head racing through a million thoughts. But I voiced my agreement for her, although inside, I knew that that would be my last resort. When I knew that I was alone and I had only my two broken feet to stand on, just about to break down and shatter into a million pieces, that was when I would talk to Eric. That was when I would attempt to understand that Devil.

.

I was planning on making that day a day of peace and hopefully, understanding. Not with Eric though, not with Eric. But still, I couldn't ignore the nervousness that was swarming in the pit of my stomach as I knocked on his door in what felt like months. It was a strange feeling, since I had a spare key and normally would just barge in.

'Yeah, just wait a second!' he called with his bright voice. I sighed slightly in relief when I heard his, somewhat of a cheery mood. Or maybe that was just his mask.

When the door opened, Kenny's eyes slowly widened as he sank my image into his brain, and then his cheeks tinged in slight pink, a warm smile resting on his lips.

'Come in,' he said, opening the door wide. I obliged, feeling slightly guilty that I couldn't smile back as warmly as he could. The sound of the closing door may have been a little too loud; it echoed around us in his cold single room.

'You don't have the heater on again,' I murmured, looking at the untouched thing in between the kitchen and the bed.

'Yeah. I'm just never bothered turning it on I guess—' he said as I crouched down and began turning on the thing, 'Thanks…'

'You still have plenty of fuel to warm up the house,' I murmured as it turned on. 'I guess that's one good thing of the day.' I smiled softly at my daily ritual.

Kenny pursed his lips in an attempted smile, then ruffled his messy blond hair embarrassingly.

We sat together side-by-side on the mattress on the floor. There was a subtle, or maybe really obvious, nervous tension around us, like we were both afraid that the other would push us away. But I guess that told us that we both wanted to be together. Then why was that being threatened? If we both wanted to be together, then wasn't that enough to keep us that way? What more was needed for two to stay with each other? I didn't know the answer, but deep down, I thought that maybe it was "understanding", because that was always missing in between us. I didn't let him know about me, and he wouldn't push hard enough to know, afraid that he would hurt me or that it would drive us apart. I understood that, but I also knew that that would cause us to eventually fall apart.

Then why was I desperately looking for a way to stay together? Without him knowing what was happening to me. Without creating that understanding.

'Kenny,' I began, and beside me, I thought I felt him jump secretly at my voice. 'Kenny, I'm sorry I bolted like that the other day.'

Now I felt his body relax, from his mind to his face, and then from shoulders to his gut.

'It's okay, Kyle. Well, no, actually it really hurt me. But I can understand why you did it—' he tilted his head and looked into my eyes, warmness leaking out of the icy orbs. 'I guess it was unexpected. And I guess being told that for the first time might have even been daunting. So, yeah, it's okay.'

My heart cringed, at his kindness and his assumption, his blissful ignorance. I reacknowledged that for him to not know my pain, and misery, was for the best. I selfishly thought that it was for him.

'Thanks…' A smile fell on my lips, small, but naturally. I knew Kenny was aching to tell me, repeat that he loved me and to ask me if I loved him back. I could tell just by sitting next to him. But he didn't say anything. I was grateful for that, whether it was from the fear that I would bolt again or not, I don't know. But even now, as I sat next to him with a small smile on my lips, I thought that he was misunderstanding his own emotions. He cares about me, and he is misunderstanding that emotion as _love_, I thought.

I looked at Kenny and showed him my smile.

'Thank you Kenny…' I repeated.

I didn't notice the twirl of emotions and thoughts in his mind as I said those words, but I should have, since it showed so much in his aching eyes. His hand rose to my cheek, brushing the small smile off my lips from confusion, and kissed me.

'Kyle,' he said, with a painfully sincere voice. My heart began to pound as I listened to him, fearing that he would say those words again, those words of confusion and misunderstanding. And I think Kenny was as scared of saying them himself. And so he said, 'it's kind of getting warm in here. You can take your coat off if you want.'

It didn't have any secret meaning behind it, no perverted Kenny meanings anyway. So I agreed and pulled the zipper of my baggy coat down and rested my hands on the collar, ready to slide it off, until…

I was wearing a baggy shirt underneath, with the collar wide enough to show my collarbone, and I instant froze my hands.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing—' I muttered as I let my coat rest back onto my shoulders, hiding my slightly exposed skin underneath.

'No, Kyle, what—'

His hands grabbed the collar of my coat, just where my hands were before as if he was helping me taking the coat off in this warming room… I couldn't stop him. I was too slow. He slid my coat off my shoulders and it fell down to my elbows, exposing the skin of my collarbone.

'What's that?' Kenny murmured, eyes wide as he stared at that one spot of exposed skin. I quickly grabbed my coat and raised it back up onto my shoulders and around my neck, looking defensively into Kenny's widening eyes.

'Is that a hickey?' I couldn't say anything. All I could do was continue to stare into Kenny's eyes defensively with shock, fear and hurt. But Kenny didn't notice my expression. He drew in closer, looking at the spot now hidden behind fabric, but was exposed only a second before. 'I don't remember putting one there…' he murmured thoughtfully. But then his expression began to drop, slowly, from his eyebrows to his eyes, to his cheeks and to his lips. They all dropped in realisation and disbelief.

'Kyle, is that a hickey?' he asked again what he now already knew, but still I couldn't answer. My silence irritated him, and he twitched in silent, yet simmering anger. 'Whose hickey is that Kyle? Who put that there?' It was a demand. Lost of the gentleness and warmness that normally portrayed his voice. It scared me slightly, if not immensely, and my grip around the collar of my coat tightened automatically.

'Have you been seeing someone while we slept together?' He asked, but still no answer came out of my mouth. Everything was collapsing before my eyes. Everything, because Kenny was everything I had now.

'Kyle, answer me!' He said more loudly with desperateness, shaking my tensed shoulders aggressively as he did. I never knew Kenny held such anger, such sadness. I never knew that he would feel such a sense of betrayal over this. 'Please… Kyle.'

And I could only look at him. As he rocked his head down in defeat, almost as a beg, I could only look at him plead for my explanation. And yet the only thing that came out of my half-open mouth was silence.

It continued for a while, for long enough to make the sound of our thumping heartbeats echoing around us drive us crazy. Until Kenny finally opened his mouth again, head still hang low with his hands on my shoulders for support.

'Kyle, you can leave now.'

I disbelieved my ears. Did those words just come out Kenny's mouth? I disbelieved my ears in the desire for it not to have been true and I stared at him with eyes protesting for it to have been my hallucination.

'Just _GO_!'

He yelled, making me jump at the loud voice I had never expected to come out of Kenny's mouth, not directed at me. My heart jumped in fear for the blond, but even more than that, undeniable hurt. The pain—

I slid out of his hands still rested on my shoulders and ran out of his apartment, leaving him there with his head hang down, still without a single word that would answer any of his questions.

The door shut in between us, much more quietly than I would have expected. It was a silent click, even with the impact it had, compared to the roaring voice of Kenny's emotion-dominated voice. The fact tore me, for some reason, that that heavy door locked solidly in between us was shut so easily, without even the slightest of emphasis, the slightest of protest or difficulty.

Was that it now? Between Kenny and me? Whatever screwed up relationship that existed between Kenny and me, was it really over, collapsed and shattered to the ground? Was I now all alone?

As I stood with the closed door on my back I slowly looked up, sinking the scene of soft snow falling before my eyes and I realised. I realised that I was now truly and utterly all alone. Alone? Me? Now? It was strange. All this time that I thought I was always alone, I had Kenny, but other than that…

He was everything I had, I knew that, but I didn't know that that everything was so important. I didn't know that Kenny was such a big part of my life, such a supporter, a necessity.

But now, I didn't have him.

What now, I thought. And there was an instant answer that chuckled in my head. Now the Devil was waiting. I will die.

That thought created a strange emotion inside me. Death? I sometimes wished for the end. When I placed a razor to my arm I sometimes wondered: if I pushed a little deeper, cut a little longer, then would what I wished for come true? But in the bottom of my heart there was something that whispered to me. Whispered that I didn't want to die.

Maybe that was hope.

Or maybe that was Kenny.

I stepped down the stairs of the apartment and set foot out of the covers and into the snow. One dropped onto my high cheek, melted on my burning skin, and ran down my face as if it were crying for me.

Now I was standing alone on my own two broken feet, about to break down and shatter into a million pieces. I only had my one last resort sitting on my frozen palm, but even as I stared at it, I couldn't determine whether I could gather up the courage to go through with it.

But no, I couldn't. Communicating to try and understand Eric was out of the question. I put my last resort back into my pocket, choosing not to use it, believing that I would somehow make it through alone.

Oh, how wrong I was. Or maybe deep down, I knew that little fact.

Kenny didn't talk to me at school the next week. I went to our usual spot behind the school with undeniable expectations, looked around for him throughout the school and waited by his locker, but no, I just couldn't catch him.

I sent him text messages to follow our daily ritual, even though I never saw him. "The sun is out today. It's nice", "I had a nice shower", "Ike played the piano for me; it was beautiful". But I never got a reply back. I didn't feel despair, or anger, or disappointment as the reality of neglect overcame me. I believed that I deserved it, and left it at that. It was a miracle that he was always with me in the first place anyway.

'Why haven't you been with Kenny lately?'

The voice triggered no emotion inside me. I had cut everything out, something that I had become much better at while not being with Kenny.

'Has he given up on you?'

His voice was like the sound of a fly batting its wings in my hollow head, as he traced his finger up my hipbone.

'Well, I guess I can imagine that. You're a difficult one to handle.'

And then his finger began tracing down, and my eyes began to grow wide.

'But don't worry Kahl. I will always be here. I will never let you go.'

I thrashed my arms as my brain switched on to life and my mouth opened to scream as Eric continued to slide his hand down and down… But then everything quietened into a freeze when Eric pressed that one button on his phone, and the cold bathroom echoed with the sound of my recorded begging.

The amount of graves created in that fourth floor bathroom was countless, but there was always room for more.

With hazy eyes, I looked around aimlessly as I walked down the stairs after Eric was done. I continued to look as I walked through the hallway, and continued to look as I walked through the school grounds. But I didn't see him anywhere. I couldn't believe how much I unconsciously longed for his presence. But no, he wasn't there, like everyone else, and I was all alone now.

'_But don't worry Kahl. I will always be here.' _

Except for that one person I longed to be free of.

'_I will never let you go.'_

But would never let me free.

Maybe being alone was a good thing. Maybe now I could begin to move forward, me, on my two feet. I opened my eyes in the bathtub, as if reaching a conclusion in my head or waking up from a long, shallow dream.

From the bottom of the bath, I drew my hand up, curled into a tight fist drenched in water, as if holding something that I loathed and needed at the same time. I was holding my last resort that I had kept hidden inside me for a while now. But as I looked at it again, and heard the voices it whispered into my ear, I knew. I knew that if I didn't use my last resort now I would not die, not break, but end. My life would terminate in the most unforgiveable, gruesome and disgusting way. And before that could happen, I had to leap for my last struggle.

"_To understand him. Communicate with him…"_

Because I couldn't just end without struggling for life.

"_Ask him why he is doing such things…"_

Even if that meant trying to talk to Eric a human being, as Sophie Rogers told me to. Even if that went against everything I fought against until now, all those self-convincing that Eric was just a psychopath, that he was a monster without thoughts and only brutal hunger. And even if it meant that all the mental barriers that I built up to fight against him would come crumbling down because of this, I had to do it.

Because ending without a struggle, was in the end, just not me.

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for reading and reviewing. I can feel the end on my tongue. **


	17. Chapter 17

'_In other words, please be true_

_In other words, I love you'_

_-Bart Howard "Fly Me to the Moon"_

Step 53: Learn

_Chapter Seventeen: Blue Reveal_

My dad was a lawyer; my mom was a volunteer worker.

Kenny's parents were unemployed, but left South Park to live new lives.

Stan's dad was a geologist; his mom was a receptionist.

Eric didn't have a dad; his mom was a whore.

.

Bach was playing in the background softly, from an old record player Sophie Rogers had dragged out from somewhere. The sound of flowing cellos mixed perfectly with the gentle fumes of the coco on the small coffee table and created an atmosphere so relaxing that attempted to reach my agitated heart.

'I'm thinking of talking to him,' I said, taking a sip of coco. Sophie Rogers paused and looked at me intently, but then sipped her cup silently and nonchalantly. 'I always thought of it as my last resort. But since I had a fight with my friend about something I couldn't explain, a while ago now, I'm alone. So I have to do something myself.'

'I am glad to hear that Kyle, although I'm sorry to hear that you had a fight with your friend.' I looked up into Sophie Rogers' eyes. They were smiling at me. 'But I am sure that if you take this one step, then it will lead to you moving forward and you will be able to make up with your friend.'

I thought about it for a second, and surely, I nodded deeply with warmness leaking into my heart. Maybe Sophie Rogers was right. If I took this one step to talk to Eric, then maybe I will be able to gather the courage to speak, and maybe even explain everything, to Kenny. The thought erased all the fear, disgust and contempt for the idea of communicating with Eric out of me.

'Do you have any guesses? Anything you may know of Eric, that has contributed to what has driven him to do such things?'

'Other than that he's a sick fu-dge? No.' I scoffed.

'Kyle, think carefully. Is there anything? Any social disadvantages, anything that happened in his past, family problems…'

'Family problems? No— no, Eric has it going well. I mean, like, his mom is the sweetest person around, almost too much. She lets him get whatever he wants, even with their low income. And she's not hard on him even with all the shit he does— sorry. Although…' I paused in thought, my tongue tasting the tip of my disregarded memory, 'Eric doesn't have a dad. His mom is kind of like, sorry for my lack of better words but, she's a slut. She's slept with almost every man in town and because of that she's never been able to find _one_ person because everyone looks at her so lightly… Except for this once, when we were in like, junior high, she went out with this guy and they were supposed to get married or something. They didn't though. I guess it didn't work out in the end.'

My words were automatic, sent straight from my memory without the process of thought. I hadn't even thought about those facts for years, and it was surprising to hear them come out of my mouth at all. But still they didn't explain anything about what created Eric.

'And how did Eric feel about that? Did he want a father?'

I looked up at her, then back to my coco. It was strange, even maddening. For the past couple of years I hadn't thought of Eric to have thoughts or feelings— I didn't even consider him as a person, a human being anymore. Because he never treated me as one either…

'I don't know. I mean, probably he did. Who wouldn't want a dad, you know? But it's always been like that for him. Except, maybe… maybe this guy was different… I don't know…'

'What Kyle? What makes you think that this man was different?'

I don't know, I wanted to say. I didn't want to think about Eric, I really didn't. But I couldn't lie; I knew.

'Well, while his mom was with this guy Eric always came to me, complaining about him. You know, how he was a douchebag and stuff. But I knew that he was just slightly jealous that he was taking his mom's attention, as well as building a liking for him at the same time… But then the guy left. His mom had some accident and stayed in hospital. And while she was there I… Eric…'

My mouth moved, my jaw quivered, but no words came out. My lungs were shaking as all the memories began to flood inside me, all the memories before high school, and it was painful to try and keep the tears in.

'Kyle? What's wrong?'

I jolted, as if being released by the fierce grip of my childhood memories and finally returning to reality.

'Nothing, it's just—' I pressed my hand against my lips and breathed to let my words form on my tongue. 'It's just that— I can't understand it. We were best friends, you know? I mean, sure we had fights, but we were so close… Like, even while his mom was in hospital I let Eric stay at mine, and I let him share my bed… I _cared_ about him. I was _nice_ to him. What did I ever do, to deserve _this_? What did I ever do to Eric that moulded him into this creature? Nothing. That's all I can think of. I did nothing…'

It was strange. Having such determined self-defence while holding immense self-loathing at the same time. But it was true. I couldn't think of anything that could have thrown our friendship into such a dark, bottomless pit. I couldn't.

'Kyle, sometimes, people can do horrible things to those they have no feelings for. No anger, no grudge, no love, no care… Although in many cases feelings do exist, in some way,' I looked up at her, slightly expectantly, waiting for a clue. But I merely got an apologetic eye before she continued. 'I am sorry Kyle, but I do not have all, if any, of the answers. I cannot tell you what Eric's motives are, whether he did this out of feelings or impulse— And that is why you must go and talk to him yourself. '

Heavy reality sank into me. It rested on my shoulders and brought me down deep with its unmerciful weight. In the end, this was what I had to do.

'I will. I will talk to Eric.'

I don't know if they were words of resignation, courage, or desperation, but they were true.

Sophie Rogers nodded acceptingly and I took a sip of my coco.

'But make sure you don't talk alone. Make sure there are people close by. Think about talking outside, or if you are not comfortable with that, talk to him at his house when his mother is home.'

'Yeah. I guess that's a good idea.'

I laughed humourlessly and drank the rest of my coco.

.

As I rocked against the bumpy bus and sank my forehead into the freezing window, I drowned myself into the music pumping out of my earphones. Beethoven's symphony of joy was loud enough to kill the sound of my cowardice heart and the words screaming in my head, and all was left were meaningless thoughts as I looked into my reflection in the glass.

I wasn't wearing Kenny's beanie anymore. It wasn't that I was too mad to wear it, because I wasn't mad at all. I was only mad at myself for making _him_ mad. But still I texted him one happy thing that happened everyday, even if it came with no reply. The reason why though, I wasn't wearing Kenny's beanie was because I had cut my hair symmetrically now. The large red curls that waved in the air were enough to cover my tattoo on my skin, and besides, I didn't deserve wearing his beanie anyway.

The bus came to a stop, and my heart jolted in harmony with the sudden jerk finally realising that now I had to use my own feet to make my way to _his_ house, to talk to _him_. My lungs began to work up, so I took a deep breath and focused on the loud chorus of Ode to Joy. Joy. Joy. Joy…

But before I could reach any joyful thoughts, my fist had automatically knocked on the door of the Cartman's residence. The sound of the three knocks made me jump to life, and in front of me suddenly, was Eric's house's front door slowly opening.

'Oh, Kyle! Well hello there, are you looking for Eric?'

It was Liane. Instantly, my lungs and stomach relaxed in automatic relief. Liane was here; it was okay. Eric won't do anything that'll make me scream while his mom's here.

'Yeah, is he home?'

'Yes, he's in his room I think,' Liane murmured as she looked up towards the stairs, letting me in the house.

I gulped as my eyes followed hers, up the stairs to where Eric's room was. It's okay, I told myself. Liane would be down here, it's okay…

'Thank you,' I said, and slowly moved my slightly shaking legs up the stairs and towards Eric's room.

This time, it was a conscious and intentional move: I knocked on the door.

…No answer. My hand curled into a fist again to knock once more, but I paused before I could make the contact. I stared at the wood, contently at the pattern of the carved door, as if to look through it. Instead of knocking on the door again, I placed my hand on the cold handle, and turned it open.

My lungs stopped and my heart jumped at the sight, as if I had never seen such a thing before. What welcomed me into Eric's room was silence. Nice, calm, relaxing silence, with the exception of the gentle breaths of deep sleep.

Eric was lying on his bed, only a few feet away from the door but too far that a simple knock couldn't reach him. He was asleep. He was on his side, arms curled into a pillow, as he breathed deep breaths with the expression of an innocent child. The almost heart-tickling image would have caused me confusion and fear, if I weren't so intent on looking at him.

He looked so peaceful, almost human. But as I looked at him, a strange thought tickled my mind. I looked from his cheeks, down his stomach and to his legs, and then up again, and this time I was sure. Eric had lost weight. I had never noticed, and I guess that was because I always avoided looking at him, but now I was sure. Eric wasn't half fat like I remembered from the beginning of our high school days; it was all gone. And he had grown, like me, only taller. It was strange, since my image of him inside me grew uglier and uglier every day, in reality, he was becoming…

Something exploded inside me. My eyes grew wide, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, I gritted my teeth in rage and I was panting with that sudden burst of red. I was disgusted and angry at that one thought that entered my head because it couldn't have been true. Eric couldn't be attractive, I couldn't find him to be. He was a disgusting monster, a leach, a vampire; he was my Devil.

Still panting, I slowly looked down at him again, and naturally, my eyes rested on his exposed neck. I could almost see the blood pumping through his artery and the air entering his body; I swore that I could hear it pumping through him.

If I just stopped that, what would happen? If I just placed my hand on that vulnerable neck, and squeezed, what would happen?

My hand slowly moved through the air, and down, until my fingers brushed against the heat of his neck. And then a little further, and I was touching his skin. My head was cold and hollow, as I slowly deepened the touch from my fingertips to my palm.

_What would happen if I just killed him now?_

'What are you doing?'

'Huh?'

Smoky eyes looked into me, thin lips curling into a smile.

'What are you doing here Kahl?' then his eyes moved down to my hand resting on his neck, and stroked it with his fingers gently, before looking back up into my eyes. 'Were you going to kill me?'

My heart jolted.

'I don't think so…' my mouth murmured truthfully, 'I want to though.'

He chuckled softly at my emotionless response. And then he suddenly pulled my hand that was on his neck and crashed me into his bed, crawling on top of me. His eyes were burning, almost glowing in the shadow that cast across his face as he looked down into me.

'Then why did you come here Kyle?'

Why? Why did I come here?

'I came here to talk…'

His eyes widened, the dark shadow somehow retreating from his face with the confusion that spread through him.

'Why?' he muttered, almost to himself. 'To talk about what?'

'Talk… I just…'

There was a solid knock on the door that made us both jump on the bed and quickly get up before the door opened up.

'Eric muffin, I'm going now,' Liane poked her head out of the door.

'Okay mom,' Eric answered nonchalantly without even looking at her, but an instant rush of panic began spreading through my heart at that comment.

'What? Where's she going?' I asked Eric frantically as Liane closed the door and created footsteps going down the stairs.

'What are you worked out about? She's going to a salon in the city for a few hours.' Eric grinned the answer, which made the blood flow away from my face.

'I'm going home.'

'What? You mean you can't talk to me without my mom around? Are you that much of a fucking wuss?'

'Whatever,' I was already heading towards the door. He couldn't stop me…

'I promise I won't do anything to you.' My hand paused before it touched the door handle. I turned and looked at Eric in confusion. 'Did you seriously think that my mom's presence in the house would effect what I do in this room anyway? Did you think that I wouldn't fuck you if my mom was downstairs? Did you think that that would stop me?' I blinked blankly, which welcomed a scoff out of him. 'If you want to talk, fine. I promise I will only do what would help whatever conversation we are going to have.'

Why did I even listen to his words? Because they were true. Eric would do anything to me whenever he liked; his mom's presence wouldn't change that. He would find a way to shut my mouth and keep me quiet. So nothing changed whether Liane was here or not— talking to Eric would always come with the same risk.

So was it worth it?

My hand slowly drew away form the door handle and I turned further so that my whole body was facing Eric and his growing smile.

'So, let's talk.'

Somehow, for a second I thought of Kenny. And that thought made me able to open my mouth and form the words that were inside me, shaking.

'I want to know… more about you.'

His eyes widened in confusion. 'More about me?' And then they narrowed. 'Why?'

'…I just want to know if anything happened to you. In the past that…' words were difficult. I tried to find the right ones that wouldn't tickle his nerve. But suddenly, I heard Eric chuckle.

'So you want to know how I've become like _this_? Fucking god Kahl! Do you think I have a reason?'

Yet his laughter seemed somewhat empty to me as it echoed in my ear. I nodded once, deeply. And slowly, Eric's laughter began to quieten as if he grew sick of it.

'Do you remember what happened three years ago? A couple months after Kenny left?'

Those words made me jump, though I nodded silently. But I don't think Eric was looking for a response. I don't think he was even looking at me. He had now sat back down on his bed, and was leaning back, tilting his head to look out the window.

'When that fucking asshole came to this house I thought that I was going to kill him…'

The name of Liane's previous boyfriend crossed my head.

'Steve?'

Eric rolled his head to look at my direction, still standing beside the door.

'Yeah. That's his name,' he said with a sharp grin that was almost a snarl. 'My mom welcomed him here with one of the greatest smiles I had ever seen spread across her face. And it was because she just got a boyfriend, who was willing to stay with her for more than one night in her bed. Secretly, she said that she thought that he was going to propose to her soon. "How do you feel about having a father? Don't you want one?" she asked me, the fucking bitch.' He imitated her voice with such sarcasm.

The disgust— distaste that he put into his words were almost menacing. But the only emotion I could feel was something I couldn't comprehend.

'But didn't you?' I couldn't believe the question that was leaking out of my mouth, 'Didn't you want a father?' It was almost as if I really _did_ want to know about him.

He looked up at me wearily, and looked back down.

'I thought I didn't… and I told myself that I didn't, but I don't know. From some time on, I thought that, my mom could do whatever she wanted. Marry him, fine, whatever. I'll be his son, whatever…'

'So then, what happened?' I asked quickly before the menacing silence could grow between us. 'Why isn't he here now if they were ready to get married?'

He chuckled without humour. 'He left. What would you expect?' His body movements became a little heavy and random, making me nervous.

'W- why?'

For a second, he didn't move, he didn't speak, as if he hadn't heard my question. And then quietly, after a long, silent moment he tilted his head to look at me. And those eyes that met mine, they made me shudder. They were not the hideous, murderous gaze he held when he looked at me, but the blank, innocent gaze of a child, as if he was looking at an old friend.

'Do you remember when my mom went to hospital in the eighth grade?' his voice was the same as his eyes: blank and gentle. It sucked all the words out of me, and I couldn't even muster a nod. But I remembered; it was from food poisoning or something, I heard. Yet Eric continued nonetheless, 'I slept over at your house the day before, remember?'

This time, I nodded; I remembered the event as clear as yesterday. I went to his house, to invite him over, like always after Kenny left and I drifted away from Stan…

'You came to my house on that Saturday afternoon, asking if I wanted to hang out. We went to your house, I stayed for the night.'

It was just an average sleepover.

'But what does that have to do with Steve?' Eric looked up at me with wide eyes of confusion. 'What does that have to do with Steve leaving?'

'He left that day,' Eric said after chuckling lightly, 'Only an hour or so before you came.'

'What? Why?'

A spec of smoke returned to his blank eyes.

'Because he never loved my mom. He was just a sadistic bastard.'

'Like you?' The sarcastic comment slipped out of my mouth with disgust before I could stop it, which Eric only laughed at, loudly, as smoke clouded his eyes again.

'Yeah. Like me.'

He laughed loudly and viciously, but his voice, his eyes, his movements, all seemed to be absent of emotion. It stirred confusion inside me, along with, yet overpowering, a sense of certain fear.

'What did he do?'

So I asked him that question.

'What did he do, that would make him a sadist?'

Because I had come here to understand him.

Eric looked up at me once more, and this time as he did, a thin, emotionless grin spread across his lips. I automatically took a step back as he got onto his feet and moved towards me, and I shuddered as his hand reached out, only to swim pass me and onto the door handle behind.

'I'll show you.'

My heart slowly relaxed and my lungs released its tension like a deflating balloon as Eric opened the door and swept pass. I followed.

Our footsteps echoed around us dimly and cold air caressed our cheeks as we walked. But all my focus was on the tall back in front of me, leading me through the hollow hallway and into the next room.

It was his mom's room.

The door shut behind me once we entered, without any human assistance. It was as if we were inside a simulation of Eric's memory, where the rules of the world didn't exist. It was as if we were in his dream.

'There,' he said, pointing at the tall, wooden closet along the wall facing the bed. 'I was hiding in there, planning to make a small prank on my mum, as mature as I was.'

And then his finger flowed through the air and pointed at the door.

'And then the door opened and I was about to jump out, until I saw that _he_ was with her as well.'

'Steve?'

'That's his name.' Eric muttered, as if he had forgotten for the second time. 'They were laughing and giggling madly as they entered. So I waited, hoping with my childish innocence that that guy would leave so that I could play my petty prank. But he didn't.'

The bed creaked quietly as Eric dropped onto the mattress.

'So what? Did they have sex while you were hiding in the closet?'

Eric chuckled quietly to himself. And then he looked up, the smoke swept away from his eyes, orbs returning to its clear hazel. Along with it, he drew up his hand, as if indicating for a helping hand to get him up. And with a mind perplexed with the transparency of his eyes, I took it, without thought.

What welcomed me was not his hand, but something cool and firm around my wrist.

'Huh?'

I looked down confusedly, and around my right wrist, was a leather cuff secured with a thick buckle. Before my brain could completely register the information, I was yanked down into the bed, the same cold sensation wrapping around my left wrist as I yelped under Eric's weight sinking into my back.

'Eric! What…'

Dim sounds of metal cluttering against each other entered my ears, cutting off my words. On my stomach with my heart beating in my ears, I looked forward, and saw my two wrists bound together by leather handcuffs connected with a metal chain. I gave my hands a quick swing, and my heart sank with despair when I noticed that the chains looped around one of the pipes of the metal headboard. The sound of the chains hitting the metal was so cold and vicious, it instantly reminded me where I was, and who I was with.

I clanged the chains against the metal again in desperateness, and again and again, until agonising sobs began leaking out of my mouth.

'Eric! You promised that you wouldn't do anything!' I screamed, still clanging the chains against the metal.

'No. I promised that I would only do what would help whatever conversation we were going to have.'

'So? How does _this_ fucking help!' I indicated the handcuffs.

'_This_, is a demonstration.'

Suddenly, something fierce pulled my legs and I screamed in near insanity. My arms, my back and my legs were all being stretched back, until I felt the same sensations as my wrists wrap around my ankles. My legs were pulled apart, and with two more loud metal clangs, I knew that they were also locked onto the metal pipes of the bed. I tried and bat my feet, but they barely moved an inch as the metal cluttered around the pipes. I was completely trapped. My hands locked together, tied onto the headboard, and my legs separated, secured onto the corner pipes; my whole body stretched, locked, and exposed.

'Yes, this was exactly how he had her. I used the same handcuffs and ankle binders he used you know? They were left where he hid them, the idiot. When he tied my mom down, she was confused too, like you, but more I guess since he had never done anything violent to her before, unlike me to you. But she wasn't as loud—' he said as he gagged me. I screamed into the gag, tossed and turned and yelled insults that couldn't be heard as he pulled my shirt up to my wrists.

'I was petrified, still frozen in the closet, unable to move.'

I heard a small cluttering beside me, and noticed the sound as Eric sliding out his belt. It flipped my stomach and instantly shut me up, because my body knew what was coming next. Only, I had no idea.

'And I could only watch him, as he did this—'

A loud, vicious _WHACK_ echoed around the room, burning my ears. The most tearing pain I had ever felt tore through the skin of my back, squeezing my pipes with agony so that I couldn't breathe. My scream was sucked into the gag, as if denying my pain. And then it came again. The thick leather and cold metal holes of his belt thrashed at me, and with Eric sending all his might into my back over and over again, I swore that it broke my skin and hit my bone.

Burning, pumping red spread across my vision, before it slowly turned into a blurry black. The numbness that began to spread across me was my only painkiller, but there was no requiem in my shredded mind to distract me that day.

The vicious whacking echoing around the room quietened, leaving only Eric's deep panting. But before the panting stopped and silence could take over, the subtle sounds of clothes sliding against skin entered my ears. Coldness wrapped around the lower half of my body, while burning hot pain was still attacking my upper half.

My vision slowly began to return its colour as the thrashing pain of my back turned into a ripping red sting. I heard the mattress cry quietly underneath me as Eric crawled on top.

'My mom had turned completely quiet too, and frozen—' Eric whispered into my ear, 'I thought she was dead, and so I thought that _he_ would leave, but no—' his hand gentle slid up my thigh, 'she could feel everything. And he was feeling too much pleasure to stop.'

His deep whispering stopped, and it was then that my whole vision shook as Eric pounded into me. There was still no requiem; my mind was too numb anyway, and my body couldn't feel anything.

I don't know how long it was when it ended, but the creaking and rocking of the bed seemed like it went on forever. Eventually though, after he finally climaxed, the cuffs that bounded my ankles and wrists against the pipes of the bed were freed, but still lost of their ability to move, stripped of energy.

'After he was done, he left, leaving my mom lifeless on the bed' Eric's voice slowly disappeared as he slid out the room. When he re-entered the room a minute or so later, more words entered my ear. 'I watched, still frozen. A few minuted after he left my mom got off the bed and left the house. She probably went to the doctors, come to think of it. And it was only once she left, that I was able to come out of the closet. I was in a mess. I had pissed my pants and was so fucking hard,' he said chuckling, 'and it was only a second after I cleaned myself that you knocked on my front door to play.'

A sharp sting burnt my back, bringing my brain back to life and sucking a sudden groan out of me.

'Shh, Kahl, I'm treating your back,' Eric's voice soothed with a gentle voice that was unlike him. 'You acted like you were so happy, having such fun Kyle, even though I wasn't the best company to have that day. You were so kind, and kept me warm when you invited me into your bed. Even when I couldn't sleep, I just stared at your peaceful face sleeping next to me. I watched you for hours…'

It was as if he wasn't talking to me. It was more like he was talking to my figure, an image, or a fantasy, filled with unlikely gentleness. Yet then that gentleness began to fade into something colder and dark.

'But it was during that night, as I slept next to you, that it happened.' The hand resting the antiseptic into my skin slowly increased its pressure unconsciously with rising rage. Worse pain slowly began to sink into me.

'My mom came home during the night. She was torn, abused and abandoned by her fiancé. And she came home to find that her son wasn't home either. Imagine the hopeless loneliness that overcame her, only because I wasn't there, only because you had come to take me away… It was because of that that she turned the stove on and inhaled the gas. Breathed it in, and out, and in, until she collapsed to the ground. That was why she tried to take her own life. All because you took me to your house.'

I could feel Eric begin to bandage my wounds.

'Lucky she was found in time, and taken to hospital. But ever since then, there has been something missing in her. Something in her mind that no one can tell, no one but me. I bet you hadn't noticed it either. If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have lost it. And that is why you have to suffer. That is why I have to punish you.'

He finished treating and bandaging my back gently, as he wrapped me with cursing words.

So that was why he did this to me. I had finally found out. No, not really. If there was one thing though, that I had truly found, it was how complicated this whole thing was. Clearly, what Eric had told me was not the only reason why he did that to me, although that was what he told himself.

I was his goat— I thought. He was punishing me, instead of himself. Instead of his cowardly self that couldn't come out of that closet to help his mother.

But was that it? I wasn't sure. But either way, it didn't change the fact that Eric was insane. And of course, there was still that one possibility that existed, that one, horrifying and painful possibility that my whole existence struggled to deny:

_That Eric was just madly in love with me, and wanted an excuse, a justification, for his actions._

.

Beethoven's Ninth Symphony was roaring in my head again and whispered out through my murmuring lips as my feet pondered through the snow on the pavement. It was difficult not to drop unconscious as I hovered my way home unsteadily. My mind was so out of it, I could even enter my room without a breakdown, until I collapsed on my bed. Once I lied on my stomach, a single move shot terrible pain through my back, so the only thing I could do was sink into a deep sleep.

The pain gobbled me up during the night and when I woke up, a high fever had overtaken me. My mom nearly dragged me out of bed to take me to hospital and even threatened to call the ambulance, but I denied to the end. My back was still pulsing in its wounds, which told me with every pulse that I couldn't let anybody see it, so the doctors was the last place I would have gone to.

My mom almost killed me with her desperate and madly caring and nagging. It almost suffocated me, which was why I was so relieved when she finally left me alone after an hour or so. But when that happened, a cold sense of lonely despair crept over me like the covers that layered on my back.

In my hand was my cell phone that I had been holding for hours, staring with a blank mind. I knew he wouldn't call, or text, but I guess there was a slight hope inside me that maybe, just maybe, he would. But that was not why I was staring at it; I wouldn't have counted on such a petty chance. I was staring at it, because there was a conflict inside myself. A conflict of whether to go through my daily ritual and text Kenny one good thing that happened that day or don't. My fingers slid across the buttons, but then it was then that I realised something and placed the phone somewhere out of my sight without sending a message.

I couldn't think of anything good, not one thing. I went through the whole day, but when I did, all I could see was black. Cold, empty black. There was not one good thing that my broken mind could come up with.

The next day was the same until my fever went down and it was time for me to go back to school. But still, I couldn't think of anything good.

As pathetic as this may sound, there was nothing. Without Kenny by my side, there was nothing.

When I returned to school though, in the deep unconscious of my mind, I could feel Kenny's icy-blue eyes on me. They stared at me with such intensity, searching me and thinking, as if he didn't even care if I noticed. But on conscious level, I didn't.

It was another day of snow. Not fierce, but with its soft powder it somehow made South Park into a pure, beautiful white, winter wonderland. The world seemed like its turning was slowing.

At lunch, behind the school like always, all alone, I flipped open my cell phone. But still without the ability to come up with anything, I closed it shut.

My body knew that once you took too much pain, you turn numb. But now, I was beginning to realise that it was the same with your mind. The loneliness and pain was too much, and now, I couldn't even feel the cold nails of rejection as it tore through my chest.

Slowly, I got up, and headed for the entrance of the school. No one was in sight, all inside, hiding from the heavy snow. And it was then, as my feet created footprints on the brand new snow, that my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I slid it out with my numb heart, unable to feel emotion as I flipped the phone open. But then, as I stared at the blue glow of my phone screen, my emotionless heart stopped along with my breath. And the next time it began to beat, it felt like a warm tear had fallen down my frozen cheek.

"_What's one good thing that happened today?"_

Snow danced and twirled around my white breath as the message slowly sank into me. I sent my reply to the icy-blue eyes that never left my mind.

This time, as I typed in my message, my fingers flowed through the buttons so naturally. There was one thing, one good thing that happened today, and it was the best thing that happened in what felt like such a long time. It flowed through my mind as if sending a new life into me, along with a sudden bloom of emotion.

"_You texted me."_

My thumb gently pressed send, and after that, I stared at the glowing screen for a while. My mind was blank, almost unable to handle the new warming emotion that had spread inside me. I couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Was that a dream? A short, instant daydream that I had in the depth of unbearable loneliness?

But at that second, swaying between fantasy and reality, I heard a loud thud in the distance, and turned my head blankly at the source of the sound.

'Kyle!'

He called my name so desperately, filled with burning emotion as he ran out the door and into the snow. His boots created brand new footsteps in the fresh pure white as he ran and created his steps that led to me.

Before my mind could register anything, warmth spread through into my skin, and I was in his chest, wrapped inside his firm arms and face that buried into my neck.

'I'm sorry!' was his first words he said to me in that hug. They shot my eyes open even further as his hold tightened. 'I'm sorry I told you to leave. I'm sorry I cast you away. I'm sorry I avoided you and didn't respond to your texts. I thought as long as you were sending me them you were okay, but then you stopped, and I got so worried, and then you didn't come to school and it nearly drove me crazy. I'm sorry I confronted you. I'm sorry I didn't notice how much… how much…'

I knew what he meant, but I couldn't say anything in response. Drenched in his kind, loving, and sorrowful words, it felt like invisible tears began to well up again. It was as if all the emotions that were lost for the past few days had suddenly exploded inside me, making it impossible to contain them inside. It made it impossible to speak.

He slowly loosened his hold, sliding himself away to look into my eyes, but keeping his arms around my shoulders to keep the warmth. His blue eyes were bursting with glistening colour as if he couldn't believe that I was just here in his hold, as if we hadn't seen each other for years.

'Kyle, I'll wait until you are ready to show me, and tell me yourself. I promise. So please, don't say such a sad thing. I feel guilty as hell…'

And he buried himself back into my neck, arms tightening around me again.

'Don't say that me sending a text to you is the best thing that happened to you. That was meant to be an ordinary, everyday thing, too normal to consider as good. There are meant to be much better things than me texting you. There are much better things, Kyle.'

Snow fell on my cheeks and streamed down along my skin. But I liked to think about it as emotion-filled tears of joy.

He let go again, slowly, and carefully this time. And his teary gaze that caressed me was so gentle, along with his shaking breath.

'Why are you crying?' I asked quietly. He widened his eyes at those words, but quickly relaxed, and let the emotion overcome him.

'Because… I never knew, and never tried to understand how much pain you were in…'

I could feel his heart beat right against my own. He was holding me so close that I could feel his life against my chest.

It was amazing how much he could sense through only three words. How much he could read and understand me.

'I promise I'll wait Kyle, and I'll never turn you away ever again. I promise…'

But slowly, I slid my hands in between our chests and separated us apart. And as I did, Kenny's bright blue eyes widened slightly in confusion and hurt.

'You don't have to wait…' I murmured, but I don't think he caught my words. My hand travelled down to his. 'Take me back home.'

Carefully, Kenny relaxed his shoulders and strengthened the connection of our hands. Through the white scenery, blinding with the soft snow, he took me to his bright orange truck.

Rocking inside Kenny's truck as he took me back to his house, the wounds on my back pulsed madly like a separate creature living under my skin. It was as if it was warning me not to reveal it to anyone, threatening me, reminding me the pain and the consequences I always feared of.

But now that didn't matter. I didn't listen to that creature under my skin or the fears that dominated my mind. I didn't want to lie anymore, or make Kenny suffer because of my fear to show him the truth.

I wanted to show him. Because of his unconditional kindness, care and unfathomable feelings for me that he never gave up on, and because of the confusing and impalpable, yet warm feelings for him that he developed in me.

Because I wanted to, I was going to show him my scars and suffering. I wanted to.

I was going to reveal it all.

* * *

**A.N- Thank you for reading xxoo and reviewing xxxooo.  
**

**Too many kisses and hugs? xxxxxxoxooooxoxooooooo **


	18. Chapter 18

**A.N- Thank you so much for last chapter, the reviews made me so happy. I haven't been responding directly, but they have motivated me so much that I just concentrated to write the best I could.**

**And on that note, I have finished writing the story. I still have to edit, but now there **_**is**_** an ending. **

**So I hope you enjoy, 'til the end. **

* * *

'_You say you want to know her like a lover _

_And undo her damage, she'll be new again _

_Soon you'll find that if you try to save her_

_It will lose her anger_

_You will never win'_

_-The Pierces "THREE WISHES"_

Step two: listen

_Chapter Eighteen: Blue Kiss_

I don't think Kenny was expecting anything as he drove me to his house. I think he was happy for the fact that we made up and were together again. But in reality, I knew he wasn't. Although he promised that he would wait until I was ready to show my whole self to him, it was obvious that he wanted to know as quick as possible, and every moment waiting was agonising.

'We're here.'

His soft voice dragged me out of thought and I met his gentle smile.

'We're here,' I echoed his words.

The second we slid out of the car I held his hand. I think Kenny thought of it as a source of comfort, but I did it unconsciously so that I could lead the way. We walked through the soft snow and climbed up the stairs in unison, and then entered his cold, lonely one-room apartment. I still hadn't let go of his hand.

'Kyle, um, as much as I love you holding my hand, I can't turn the heater on like this…' he said, indicating our small connection. Chewing on my lip slightly, I slid my hand away for the short minute it took for him to turn on the heat.

'There. Done—'

The second he said that I grabbed hold of his hand again and led him to the mattress on the floor. He murmured words of confusion but I ignored him and made him tumble onto his bed.

'Um, Kyle?'

Before he could say any more, I crawled on top of him, trapping the confused blond under my skinny limbs and looked down into his icy-blue eyes.

'Kyle, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I'm super up for some make-up sex, but I'm not sure if you're in the right mind set to—'

Still ignoring him, I connected our lips, silencing his words. It sent the logical thoughts straight out of Kenny's head, and he instantly deepened the kiss by slipping his tongue into my mouth. But just as the lust began to overpower his body, I broke our connection, and leaned up onto my knees.

'Kyle?' Kenny murmured with confusion, pushing himself up as I stared into my blank mind.

His hand reached my cheek, sending in human warmth that reminded me of his presence right there, in front of me.

'Kenny,' I said, placing my hand on top of his resting on my cheek. 'Are you sure you want to know more about me?'

His eyes widened in surprise, but instantly narrowed in strength and determination.

'Yes!' He said. The word sunk into my mind, and I accepted it but it didn't affect my heart. It was just a confirmation.

'I don't think you do…'

Silence followed, with Kenny looking at me with his mouth hanging open. But then he shut it firmly, and placed his other hand on my cheek as well, caressing my skin with his thumbs.

'Kyle, I love you. No matter what, I want to know all of you, so that I can love it all.'

_But there's nothing to love_— I thought, feeling the warmth of his hand underneath mine as a source of sorrow.

'But as I told you,' he said, cutting off my thoughts, 'I'll wait until you're ready to tell me. No matter how long that takes.'

His eyes were bright blue, shining clearly with vibrant colour. He looked at me intently, and I felt its heat not as sorrow anymore, but something much more comforting.

Slowly, I slid my hand off of his, and gently took his hands away from my cheeks. He looked at me with sudden confusion as I got up, off the mattress and onto my two feet. He began following my action by leaning up, about to get up as well, but I pressed his chest with my palm, sinking him back down into the mattress.

I took a step back, to let him get a better view of me. His eyes slowly began to widen.

My fragile fingers caught the zipper of my coat, and slowly took it down. And then, after the heavy clothing fell to the floor, my hands moved to the hem of my single shirt underneath. Arms crossed against my torso, hands tight on my shirt, I listened to the cry of my pulsing wounds with secret nervousness. A ghost of doubt swept through my lungs, but then almost instantly, I felt the firmness of my feet on the ground.

I narrowed my eyes with a sense of strength and control inside me, and pulled my shirt against my skin and over my head. The fabric that I kept clumped to my skin slid off so easily, and then fell lifelessly onto the floor.

I heard Kenny's breath echo around the room. The silent sound to me seemed like a scream. Kenny, without a word and without a single blink, leaned up onto his feet and took a step to close the gap in between us.

'I remember this hickey from a while ago…' he said, sliding his finger along my collarbone, 'But this…' his finger slid down past a bruise, 'and this…' and then a bite mark, 'and this…' He was producing words without a voice, drying and shrivelling up in his throat. He still didn't, or couldn't, blink.

There were countless bruises, bite marks and hickeys all over my torso, as well as some scars that were created over the past two years. No emotion stirred in me as I looked at them, something in my head missing to respond to the cruel marks that had ripped me. But I could tell, that just the sight of it, every scar and every wound, was tearing through Kenny right before my eyes.

'Oh god…' he said, knees collapsing to the ground as his eyes stayed glued to my naked torso. 'Oh my god, Kyle… what… what are these?'

I knew he knew what they were. It was only too obvious. But I wasn't kind enough to let him stay in that moment of denial.

'This one was from a couple of weeks ago,' I slid my finger over a bruise on my stomach, 'he punched me when I struggled against him. I don't usually struggle, but sometimes my body does it automatically when he touches me. I think these are from the same day,' I pointed at my vanishing hickeys.

'This is a scrape he gave me a few days after that,' now to the broken skin above me chest, 'he pushed in into the tiled floor and my skin got caught in the cracks as he fucked me.'

That word made Kenny twitch, and he looked up to my face, eyes widening further in horror, if that was even possible.

'Fucked? He _fucked_ you?' I could see through his eyes that he was protesting for no more.

'Yes, he fucked me. Many times. At least, for each mark on my body.'

His jaw shook as he talked.

'Did you… did you want it?'

'NO!' I screamed, taking a step back from Kenny as he reached out to touch me. 'Why would I want him to fuck me! Every time it kills me! I feel myself die in his hands! There's nothing worse! Nothing! I don't want him to touch me! To even see me! But… what else can I do?'

A straight tear dropped from my enraged eyes. I couldn't feel it as it rolled down my cheek, but somehow Kenny felt it. The shock and pain didn't disappear from his eyes, but the numbness and denial disappeared under the new strength and determination that overcame him.

He stood up onto his feet and slowly took his steps towards me. Still in rage, I walked back, glaring at him defensively. That is, until he took that final step and wrapped his arms around me.

'Kyle,' he said, exploding inside from so many emotions that it was difficult for him to turn any of them into words, 'Kyle…'

Slowly, as I felt the heat of his arms sink into my skin, my body began to relax. The rage turned into warmness, relief, and calming, yet abysmal sorrow.

'I'm sorry I never understood the severity of what was going on. You were acting so strange ever since I got here, but I didn't even understand that until later. And even after that, I thought it was from being isolated from your friends, because of the pressure to do so well at school, and then Stan… I— I never thought that you would be experiencing such horror, feeling such pain… So much that it was driving you insane. I'm sorry Kyle. I should have confronted you more.'

'You apologised just then for confronting me at all in the first place.'

'Yeah,' Kenny chuckled weakly, 'but if I had confronted you more, maybe you would have told me earlier.'

'No. I probably would have ran away from you.'

'Maybe,' Kenny slowly slid his arms off of me and placed his hands onto my cheeks, 'but still, there was so much more I could have done.'

'You tried your best. And I tried my best to hide it, so there's nothing more that you could have done.'

His thumbs caressed my cheeks and he tried to create a smile on his hurting expression that was also mixing with happiness.

'At least you're showing me now… At least now we're talking.' I nodded softly in his hold. 'Can you tell me more?'

I nodded again, and Kenny nodded in response. He let his hands slide off my cheeks and took a step back as I continued to point at the marks that were not yet explained.

'These are what I did to myself. I started doing it during the summer, and the habit stayed with me. I do it anytime my self-loathing becomes unbearable and when my head feels like it's going to explode if I didn't release it through my skin.' I murmured, tracing my finger from my elbow, past my shredded skin of my skinny arm and down to my wrist. And then I continued to point at the wounds from Eric on my torso. 'From last Friday. He bit me hard as he raped me— This one from Monday when I tried to get away from him. As well as these. I think he made me unconscious that day—'

I had reached my last wound.

'…And then this one… is from three days ago…'

I turned to show my latest marks. I turned to show my back.

There was no bandage to hide it anymore, my blistered, ripped and burnt skin that came from Eric's belt.

If Kenny had calmed himself down a few minutes ago, this new wound shocked him again, even more than before. But I couldn't see his broken expression, and I was glad almost, that I had my back to him.

'I went to talk to him, from some advice I got form a retired counsellor. It was after you and I had a fight, and I thought I had come to my last resort. Me and him talked, why he was doing this to me, and then he tied me to a bed and whipped me with his heavy leather belt.' The marks were all over my back; I could touch the sting if I reached back with my hand. 'After that, he kept me tied to the bed as he fucked me again. I got a fever the next day and stayed at home until today. Since that day, I couldn't think of anything good. And that was why I hadn't texted you for a few days…'

I turned back to face Kenny again. And now I could see his frozen face.

'So this is what you were having sex with,' I said, voice adopting a hint of sarcasm over my torn and painful heart. 'Pretty disgusting, right?'

Kenny's shocked and pale face suddenly flamed up with a burst of colour. His icy-blue eyes glimmered a slicing light as they thinned into an angry glare and tore through my now widening green ones.

I looked at him in confusion and near fear at his changing expression and emotion that was now almost radiating heat. But before I could take a step away, his hand shot up to grab my wrist, and yanked me down with all its force, throwing me onto the mattress underneath him.

'Don't you ever say that,' he hissed, pulling my captured wrist up so that I was staring up into his burning eyes. 'Don't you ever say that you're disgusting!' And he captured my lips, his anger turning into passion, hot and gentle.

He then let go after a long moment, letting us breathe against each other, still staring into each other's eyes.

'Don't you ever say you're disgusting…' he repeated, more softly this time. 'You're beautiful…'

He turned his head to my wrist that was still captured in his hand, placed beside his cheek. I suddenly felt extremely self-conscious of the countless cuts trailing down my arm; it was making my face burn. But before I could tell him to stop looking at the marks of self-harm, he leaned closer to the cuts, and then I felt his soft lips press against my torn skin.

It was like an electric shock had suddenly shot through my body. It was strange that such a gentle action could cause such an explosion inside me. My head burnt, and then turned into warm fuzziness, making it impossible to hold onto my mind.

'Ken, stop—' but it was as if my voice was begging for more. He listened to that voice, not my words, and continued to kiss every one of my wounds and scars. Every one of those kisses was an instant cure that healed my broken skin. The numbness of my body to feel the pain suddenly disappeared, and I felt every wound burn on me painfully with his kiss. But then that pain would disappear in an instant, and all I could feel was extreme relaxation, gentleness, and pleasure.

After kissing each of my own cuts, he moved up to my chest and continued the same for the bite marks, hickeys and bruises created by Eric. They too, with each kiss, felt like they were being disinfected and healed. And then he moved down, past my ribs, my navel and to my hips, making a quiet grown leak out of my mouth.

My cheeks were now burning and my breath was turning heavy. Even after sleeping with him countless times, it felt like we were touching for the first time. And I knew that he was feeling the same way, when he finished healing each of my wounds and moved up to capture my lips.

I slid my hands up Kenny's top and wrapped my arms around his back, digging my fingers into his skin and muscle, pulling him down to deepen the kiss and to taste his warmth in my mouth and on my tongue. Slowly, we drew apart and looked into each other's eyes. His blues were intense, glimmering and burning with emotion. Yet it wasn't intimidating. I almost felt it comforting.

As he began to undo my jeans, I lifted his shirt over his head, and then kicked the fabric off my legs for assistance. Kenny kissed me quickly before he trailed his hand up my naked thighs and hooked my legs up onto his shoulder and onto his back. Normally I would have been protesting against him with embarrassment, but now, I couldn't have cared less about such an exposed position. Not along as it was Kenny.

He leaned down, my thighs pushing into my chest as he did, and then I let out a silent gasp as I felt a warm tongue trail up my cock. Unconsciously, I grasped his hair in desperation as he took me in his mouth and began sending immense pleasure through my body. I heard my voice moan as I felt Kenny's mouth and hand move up and down, his thumb caressing my head.

'Kenny, I'm—' a moan interfered my words, 'Ken, I'm going to cum…'

But my words didn't affect him, and I couldn't control myself anymore. With one last suck from Kenny, I released into his mouth, strength draining out of my body as I did. But Kenny didn't stay long to milk me dry. I heard him swallow some of my cum, and then catch the other with his hand.

My legs stayed on his back as he slid his jeans down and stroked himself with his wet hands, and leaned his shaft against me to let the leaking cum spread across his length.

'Kyle, can I?'

His voice was shaking with heavy breaths. It was obvious that he was on the edge; his fingers were already brushing against my hole impatiently as he asked, making my sensitive body jolt with every brush.

Without being able to produce any words, I nodded, and he kissed me again deeply as he pressed his finger into me. My legs tightened on his back and then crossed each other as he twisted more fingers in, preparing me as gently as his impatient body could muster.

His lips left my mouth, trailing down to my neck, and to my collarbone as he curled up to position himself. I could hear my heart thumping in my chest echoing in my ear. Waiting for him seemed like forever, and in that time I noticed. I noticed how much I wanted him—

A loud moan filled the air as he pushed himself in.

The friction was pure heat, but it didn't burn me, or hurt me, so much that it was impossible to think that such an action had ever hurt me before. He was passionate, but didn't let the emotion tear through me. As I felt him deepen, he reached my prostate, sending a drowning pleasure through me. Such euphoria: it was almost excruciating.

'Kyle, is it okay if I cum inside you?' He managed to ask through desperate breaths. My legs had dropped from his shoulders over the movements and were now crossed over his back, rocking against Kenny's skin with every thrust.

I nodded, unable to create any words as I felt him hit me again. Pausing for a second, he leaned down and connected our lips, and began thrusting again, quicker and faster, until I felt him release inside me.

His breaths turned into a gasp, and he tilted his head in exhaustion, resting his head on my chest as he slid himself out of me. To finish off, he hovered his head up and kissed me again. The number of kisses exchanged that night was countless.

It was as if our breaths were made of steam; they danced against each other hit our cheeks, almost burning our skin. But there could not have been anything better. After swallowing our saliva and trying to catch our breaths, we finally looked into each other's eyes. And as if we hadn't touched each other enough, we leaned in and pressed our lips together, before both collapsing into the mattress. But even as we lied in the bed, we didn't disconnect our gazes.

His eyes were still burning, even as he panted. He made that emotion in his eyes into words before, and then I ran away in fear. But now, I could take them in, I could look at it straight in the eye. It was intimidating but I didn't feel fear, yet it created a sense of confusion inside me that made me feel sorrow and regret, and now, almost guilt.

It was the first time I felt such guilt for Kenny, for not being able to label my feelings for him like he did for me. But I guess I was still afraid of the emotion. Of love.

Seeing the painful knot of emotions in my eyes, Kenny held my hand, bringing me back to reality and its warm forgiving arms.

He accepted me as I was. As the coward I was.

'How many times do you think we've done this before?' he whispered. It was strange; I wasn't expecting his words. I knew Kenny wasn't the type that liked talking after sex, and neither was I.

'I don't know. I never counted.' I said truthfully. 'How about you?'

'I don't know either. Lost count,' he chuckled happily. I didn't really understand his happiness since most the times we had sex it was to run away from the pain and horror of my nightmares. Yet his chuckle, it brought a smile onto my lips.

I closed my eyes, so relaxed in that moment of bliss that I didn't realise Kenny's strong question until he opened his mouth.

'How many times did he rape you?'

My eyes shot open, relaxation instantly evaporating from my body.

'I don't know, I never counted,' numbness began to sink in again. 'The first time was in June, the day I came to your house and began staying here.'

'He went to your house?' his eyes shot wide in shock. I nodded. 'So, that blood on your sheets…'

'They were from then,' I admitted, making Kenny's face tense in horror. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't apologise.' He entwined our fingers tighter. Feeling the warmth, I continued.

'The second time was when you got sick, a couple of months ago. That was the day you told me to tell you one good thing that happened a day. He drugged me and put something on me, making me beg him to fuck me. He recorded my voice then, and used that as blackmail from then on.'

I could hear Kenny's heart beat fast, while his face began to pale again.

'He has been doing it twice or three times a week since then, so maybe… twenty?'

I almost heard his entire breath gasp out of Kenny's mouth. That was why I never counted, because in numbers, it was too daunting. It was too much to handle with a conscious mind.

'And I thought that that hickey was consensual…' he muttered, but I couldn't really catch his words. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, but when I met his burning eyes that had regained its strength, mine began to widen again.

And then he asked me that one question.

'Who is he?'

'Huh?'

The numbness flowed away from my mind, panic slowly overcoming me in response.

'Who's been doing this?'

That question was it. The one question my mind and body denied to answer. The one that caused great sadness.

I could only shake my head slowly.

'What do you mean? You mean you can't answer me?'

'I'm sorry.'

'_Why_?'

His hand moved into my curls gently but desperately, making me look into his eyes.

'I just… can't.'

'Why? If you don't, I cant' save you!'

'You can't save me either way!' My words sliced through the room, tearing through us like ice. I couldn't believe the sudden anger that had burst inside me.

'Kenny,' I began calmly, 'he has been tormenting me since the beginning of high school. No one noticed, didn't even try to. Not even Stan… I had been going through this pain while you weren't here. I've been going through this alone. But I also know I wouldn't have been able to come this far without you. You have helped so much. But Kenny—' I saw his face fall in pain as I said the next words, 'you can't save me.'

I entwined our fingers strongly again. Because although it was true that he couldn't save me, it was also true that I needed him.

'But Kyle, if you don't tell me… he might do this again.'

—No, Kenny. Not _might_. _Will_.

But still I didn't tell him the name of our old friend.

If only I could have seen the pain and frustration Kenny was feeling then. I thought I understood his emotions, but I never saw the true severity of his suffering. His suffering for _me_.

The revealing of my true pain had brought us together closer than ever imaginable. But as long as I couldn't say _his_ name, and as long as Kenny desired for it, there was going to be a crack in between us, an agonising distance, that had to be overcome.

But still, after that, even after the painful mixture of understanding and conflict that was shared between us that night, I felt a strange sense of invincibility flow through my veins. It gave me a whisper of belief that, maybe, I would be able to go through this in one piece. That I would be able to live through to the end no matter what was about to come. As long as I had Kenny.

In the middle of the night, I slid out of sleeping Kenny's warm hold and walked out onto the balcony. As my bare feet hit the icy cement, I flipped my phone out and called _his_ number. He didn't answer, naturally for three in the morning, but his message machine was all that I was looking for.

I breathed in the cold midnight air, and it felt as if the stars shining through the gaps in the snowy clouds were filling up my lungs.

I breathed in, and I breathed out.

Please leave your message after the beep.

'_I have told Kenny everything. I haven't told him your name, but he has given me a strength that you can't beat. You can't break me Eric. I will live through this with Kenny. While you're all alone.'_

The snow was finally beginning to weaken in South Park. Spring was around the corner.

.

It was Kenny's birthday. That was why it was a message to him, not me, although he never ceased to try and teach me a lesson. But surprisingly to me, he hadn't responded to the message I sent him a couple of days before. Maybe he didn't get it, I thought, but that was okay. It was a message to myself, as much it was to him, anyway.

Kenny was out working. He had changed from working in the night to the day, because it was usually in the night when I had my breakdowns; I needed him there, when my nightmares raped me. While he was out, I had secretly baked a cake to celebrate his eighteenth, and the fact that it was only about two months until graduation. I had found out that I was much better at baking than at cooking, maybe because having the disability to taste didn't affect it as much. It was also much more relaxing as well, no stress required.

It wasn't snowing that day; the setting sun seeped through the curtains and landed right on the mattress, casting a red line right through the middle. Surrounded in the smell of freshly baked cake, I dropped myself on that warm line and chose to take a little nap before Kenny got home.

It was during that time while I was sleeping that _he_ took the steps up the metal apartment stairs. I don't know how he got into the apartment room, but he did it with the sound of air, not making my sleeping self notice one bit.

I didn't wake as he crept across the cold floor and towards the mattress with a piece of rope dangling from his hand and a cloth in the other. I didn't wake as he gently put the cloth between my teeth and tied it around my head, or when he bounded my hands in front of me.

I only woke when I was yanked to the ground, pulled by the fierce tug on the rope from my tied wrists.

'Wakey-wakey Kahl—' a thin voice welcomed me to consciousness as I emitted confused and panicked sounds into the gag. He continued to pull me by the rope from my hands as I kicked and screamed on the ground, lost, confused, and about to explode.

—Why was _he_ here? I thought I was in Kenny's house, the safest place in the world!

I was finally pulled up from the ground as he tied the leftover rope onto the coat hanger screwed into the wall, right in line with the front door. I looked back in shock and fear, and behind me, was Eric with his smoky eyes.

'Haven't seen you since school got out. Hope you're having a nice spring break, and I guess from the message you left me the other day, you have been.'

I glared at him, remembering the mindset I was in when I said those confident words. Strength leaked into my panicked heart, which magically calmed myself down.

'Think you're so tough in Kenny's house huh? Or are you thinking that he's going to barge in at any moment now to stop me? But don't worry—' My heart jumped, strength quivering inside me as his hands undid his belt, sliding the thick and heavy thing off of his hips. Arms tied and connected to the hanger, facing the wall with my back exposed, I instantly knew what was coming next. 'This will be over before _he_ comes back—'

A loud whip echoed through the apartment. My scream was sucked into the cloth in my mouth as Eric slashed my still healing back with his vicious belt. The pain was as bad as ever, and that was with clothes hugging my skin. I bit down and closed my eyes tightly as Eric's belt whacked me a few more times, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

The whacking stopped and freezing silence followed, only to be interrupted by the sound of Eric's footsteps coming towards me. I groaned an insult and tried to twist my painful body away from him as he slowly undid each of the buttons of my shirt, and then my jeans, to let all the fabric slide off my skin and fall to the floor. Now the only thing on me was Eric's cloth in my mouth, his rope bounding my wrists, and his eyes licking my exposed painful skin.

'That's better…' he murmured quietly. The next second I screamed again, feeling the skin on my back burn and rip to shreds, thin layer by layer. His shadow and mine, made large and dark by the scarlet setting sun, was projected onto the white wall of Kenny's apartment. Eric's silhouette brought its arm down again and again as if its aim was to truly kill. And my silhouette, facing up with its back arched like a bow, simply took it, without the ability to even express its pain.

By the time the slashing finally stopped, numbness had overcome my mind and body. My eyes were glazed over, without the ability to register any vision. My mind was hollow, and my body was like a dead piece of meat hanging in the butcher's.

Not even registering that the whipping had stopped, I hang there unresponsively as Eric curled his hands behind my thighs and lifted me up, positioning me so that he could finish me off. For as long as it took, he was pushing me up and down, digging his cock in and out of me. And still I didn't respond. But even that came to an end, like every time before, when Eric finally released inside me.

As he dragged himself out, cum splattered onto the floor and trailed down my thigh. My body was broken again, but even after the end I wasn't allowed to collapse onto the floor. The bounds on my wrists tied onto the hanger wouldn't let me.

'Bye Kyle. Say "Happy Birthday" to Kenny for me.'

And he left, just like that, leaving two things. One: the note that he stuck to the front door. Second: my body still tied to the wall, naked with cum sliding down my leg; back, slashed and torn, exposed. But at least now that Eric was gone, I could fall into unconsciousness. I didn't care about anything else. I just wanted the complete darkness to embrace me.

While the large, comforting hands of darkness caressed me, Kenny was driving home, probably singing that old song again that Eric sometimes hummed. The song that made me be blue. He was probably still humming it as he climbed the stairs of the apartment and as he walked through the hallway to arrive at his front door. But then, when his eyes caught the piece of paper stuck to the door, his lips would have frozen, along with his whole body. With shaking hands he would have took it, and then with a panicked heart opened the door to finally find what was inside.

I was positioned to be the first thing that came into vision when the door opened, as if Eric had planned that from the beginning. The light that leaked in from the opening door landed right on my back, highlighting the bruised, swollen and shredded skin.

'Kyle!'

He yelled my name in horror but it didn't reach me. My unresponsiveness triggering his panic even more. He rushed to my side, calling my name again and again desperately as he undid the bounds tying my wrists to the hanger on the wall. My unconscious body instantly fell into Kenny's shaking arms and he was quick to undo the gag around my mouth.

'Oh, Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, Kyle! Please wake up— please, please, please…' he muttered as he held me on the ground in his lap and rocked us back and forth, digging his face into my neck as he chanted like a prayer.

'K— Kenny?'

My vision was still dark and blurred, but as they began to return, I could see light blond hair and vibrant blue eyes glistening.

'Oh my god— Thank god Kyle!' he gasped, embracing me again as tightly as ever. The warmness seemed to leak in through my numb skin and reach deep inside me. It made me smile obliviously, and I stroked his soft hair.

'Happy Birthday Kenny,' I said, softly, but still with a smile. The words made Kenny lean out to look into my face again, and his eyes, in response to my words, were blank with fear and confusion.

'Kyle—' he tried to place his shaking hand onto my cheek, tears finally dropping out of his eyes, 'Oh my god…'

We sat there on the floor, Kenny still rocking with me in his hold until I finally began to feel pain.

'Ow—'

That one small mutter made Kenny fling his head up.

'Oh Kyle, I'm sorry,' he gasped, getting to his feet with me still in his arms, 'here, I'll treat your back now.' And he gently placed me on the mattress, wounded back in the air.

As I waited for Kenny to get the first aid kit, senses began to return, and I was beginning to feel uncomfortableness from the dried cum on my arse and legs. And then emotion finally began to leak in, turning my numb bliss into self-hatred and disgust for myself. As if to hide my disgusting body, I flung the sheets over me and dug my head inside.

'Kyle, come out,' Kenny said as softly as his painful voice could muster. 'I need to treat your back.'

I stayed quiet.

He leaned down and slid his hand onto the sheets, 'Kyle, please,'

'NO!'

His hand flinched, in fear, but not fear that I might suddenly snap and attack him, but fear that I was now _afraid_ of him. Fear that now I hated Kenny. But, and this was what I found amazing about it, he fought that fear and tried to lift the sheets again.

'I said no Kenny!' I flung myself up and screamed as the sheets slid off of me. And then I grabbed onto Kenny's shirt, and hang my head down, shaking as I continued my next words, '…I don't deserve it…'

Kenny's eyes shot wide, and then they narrowed slowly in strength.

'No Kyle, this—' his finger slid against my torn back, 'and this—' his finger trailed down to the dried cum on my thigh, '_this_ is what you don't deserve.'

He undid my hands on his shirt and gently laid me back on the mattress. I didn't respond any more; my body simply moved with his hands like a doll. Neither did I move as he disinfected my wounds and wrapped it in a bandage, or as he cleaned my body gently with a wet towel.

It wasn't until he said those words a while later that I finally regained my thoughts and senses again.

'Maybe we shouldn't be so close anymore…'

'What?'

I shot my eyes wide open and saw Kenny do the same. Clearly he wasn't expecting any response, only muttering words for himself. But then he sighed, and told me his thoughts.

'This was stuck to the door when I came back—' he said, taking out a piece of paper crushed into a round ball in Kenny's fist. He opened it up, and my heart shrivelled up at the writing.

"_Stay away from him"_

The words were big and rough like they were scratched onto the paper; it was what I imagine the marks on my back to be like. That was when I knew that what Eric had done to me that day, wasn't to teach _me_ a lesson, but to teach _Kenny_.

'Maybe if I backed away then he wouldn't be doing such horrible things to you—'

'No!' I yelled, grabbing onto Kenny's shirt again, 'No, Kenny, no, no, no, no, no! Please! Don't leave me alone! I won't be able to take it without you! He'll _kill_ me!'

'But Kyle, you said that the worst only began to happen once I've come back, and once I've become close to you. And he clearly doesn't like it!' He shook the paper in his hand again, making me cringe. 'Kyle, listen. As long as I stay with you, and as long as you don't tell me who it is, he will continue doing this to you. And if you're suffering the worst because I'm with you, then you will be better off without me. And… I can't bear to be the reason you are suffering so much… I just can't…'

Biting on my lip, tears beginning to form in my eyes, I could only shake my head.

'No. No, no, Kenny, no! I can't— I can't go through this without you… I'm scared, Kenny. I'm scared that he'll kill me if I don't have you. I'm scared that… that… I'm scared that I might kill myself, Kenny—'

It was the first time I ever voiced suicidal words. It was the first time I ever accepted them. But it was true, it was always inside me. I truly believed that the only reason why I had come so far was because Kenny was with me, and without, I probably would have pushed my wrists into water the first time I slitted them.

At those words, Kenny looked at me in shock. It was as if he never knew his importance to me, and never saw the true pain I was suffering in my head.

'Kyle—'

'Please don't go! I can't— I can't—' I begged him. Drenched in tears and hands still curled in his shirt, I begged for my life.

'Okay, okay Kyle, I won't go. I won't go.'

'You promise?'

'Yeah— yes, Kyle, I promise. I won't go anywhere, I promise.'

I sobbed a smile, and placed my head on his chest, trying to gather up everything that had shuttered and fallen to the ground. My impassiveness, my numbness, my ability not to cry— but just that moment, as I cried in Kenny's hold, I seemed to not be able to find them anywhere. And I didn't think I needed them either, only for that one short moment.

Because I had Kenny, who had chosen self-loathing guilt over seeing me crumble before his eyes.

.

It was less than two months until graduation. Until the end of school. Until it was all over.

Most people had accepted or declined university offers and were just living through day by day, while I had to make sure, with Kenny, that I made through each and every one of them alive.

To make sure that I survived, with the Devil gripping one hand of mine, and God holding the other.

Till the end.

.

'_Even eating a bitter fruit, if it's with you_

_Even through a dark tunnel, if it's with you_

_I don't really know how to measure the distance between people_

_But I think I want to find a distance that doesn't need measuring_

_Between me and you'_

_-Plenty "Hito Tono Kyori no Hakarikata"_


	19. Chapter 19

**A.N- I graduated school and am now entering the exam weeks, so thing's are going to get a little crazy. But I have this story secure, so it's okay.**

**Thanks for reading! And many kisses for reviewing! Three chapters to go after this. The end is near.**

* * *

'_Now, I am so sad, my tears have all dried up, and I feel like I can never smile again._

_But there will be a time, when I will be able to say, "Such times there were"'_

_-Miyuki Nakashima, "Jidai"_

Step one: Love

_Chapter Nineteen: Blue End_

Graduation day was the finish line.

'You made it Kyle!'

And how befitting, it was a day before my birthday.

'Congratulations!'

Which meant that I would wake up on my birthday, completely new and reborn.

'Huh?'

I opened my eyes and met bright blue orbs sparkling and looking down on me with the most cheerful and beautiful smile to accompany them. He took my hand unexpectedly and hoisted me up into the air, securing me into a tight hug that I took with a completely confused mind.

'Kyle, we made it. Today is the twenty-fifth. We made it…'

Slowly, his words began to sink into my brain. The information widened my eyes as if it was news that I had never expected to come out of his mouth.

'Twenty-fifth?'

He nodded, still with a smile that leaked all his happiness inside him out into the early morning air of the room.

'It's May the twenty-fifth. Today is graduation.'

A chuckle of disbelief escaped my mouth, and then a small tear fell from my eye. I held him, digging my hands into his back as if it was impossible to have a hug too tight. And he hugged me back, just the same.

The past couple of months or so nearly drove Kenny insane. To be honest, even after Kenny's birthday nothing had changed. A few times a week I was either called to the forth floor bathroom or to _his_ house, to be killed over and over again. I lied to Kenny every time, but he knew, when I came back all broken and hollow, what had happened.

But the only thing he could do was watch with a hawk's eye. Watch everyone's attitude and movements if they came near me and watch their body language as he suspected everyone at school. The person was at school, was the only thing he found out.

He also developed a sense of impatience that got him into a couple of fights, but he didn't seem to care since he was determined that he wouldn't go to university. That, and Kenny's character always made the opponent seem the guilty one, so he never got into deep trouble for anything anyway.

Yet the paranoia and suspicion Kenny had developed for those two months were excruciating for him. Every day that Kenny sensed that something terrible had happened to me again, he would fuck me as if desperate to tell himself that I was there, with him, and not dead in another's arms. I could feel the pain that he held each night; I could even feel him fear himself as he watched the scars on my body move with every time he thrust into me. But I never feared him, no matter how aggressive he got, because I could always feel his care and kindness through his touch.

Although, I did fear _for_ him when he woke up in the middle of the night, chocking on his own silent scream. I feared that he was leading to what I had become. But he didn't quite lose his mind. He lost sleep, his appetite, his thoughts, his oblivious bliss, but never his mind. Not like me.

But today, was the ceremony that announced the end. To all that. For both of us.

'So, are you going to Cartman's tonight?'

'Huh?'

I swang my gaze up from my morning coffee to stare at Kenny with shocked and frightful eyes invisible to the blond.

'You know,' he said, twirling his spoon around in the air, 'his after-graduation party? That everyone's invited to?'

'Oh…' I murmured, sipping on my coffee weakly until Kenny opened his mouth again.

'So? Are you?'

_No_. No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_.

'Yes.'

He smiled, and took a spoonful of cereal and shoved it into his mouth.

'Good. You need to stretch your wings out once in a while. At least for this once, to celebrate.'

Eric Cartman was one of the two people Kenny did not suspect. Along with Stan, it could not have been possible for our oldest and best of friends to be doing such horrible things to me. Although he sometimes glared at them and curled his fist at the two who didn't even try to understand my suffering, that anger never turned into suspicion. But I understood it, since even while being the target of abuse I had denied the fact for a while too. Because he, Eric, was my best friend. It was just impossible that he would be doing such things to me.

To be frank, although, with Kenny, I had been looking forward to graduation as if it was the end of a war, the actual graduation ceremony was nothing to look forward to. I declined the offer to make a valedictory speech, or do absolutely anything that would put me on spotlight. The teachers couldn't have been more disappointed about it, since, you know, so far I had the highest academic success my little Podunk mountain town had seen in years. And that was not boasting, that was just facts. But there was just no way that I would stand in front of everyone to lie to the lot of them.

Instead of me, it was Wendy who made the speech, with her boyfriend right beside her. She looked so proud, she looked so confident and she looked so beautiful as she said each word. She looked at each teacher and each student as she spoke her inspiring words, except for me. Her eyes never landed on me, not once, as if I wasn't even worth it. Instead, I felt another pair of eyes land on me. My eyes quivered from the girl speaking, a few inches up, and met two dark blue eyes looking right at me.

Stan didn't have a wide smile on his face like his talking girlfriend. And while all the attention was given to his her, his eyes were on me, and mine on him. My heart jumped when I met them, and we stared at each other. But it was only a second later that he looked to the side and broke our connection, looking at Wendy like everybody else in the gym.

It was the first time I came to contact with Stan in over a year. It was completely unexpected and confusing, and then, strangely, it made me feel guilty. My super best friend, and my love for years, did not know a thing. He didn't know the true colours of his girlfriend or his old friend, and didn't even suspect the pain that I was suffering. The only thing he knew was that our friendship ended only too easily, without a reason, again.

And then, as I stared at Stan during that ceremony, I had finally found out, like Kenny, that the ignorance and confusion had been eating him away. But he had had a good high school life: captain of the football team, most popular guy in school, not bad grades and with the most beautiful girlfriend he could have wished for. He had enough, a good time, and surely _I_ wasn't enough to have changed that.

But there was another pair of eyes that were watching me, other than Stan's, and that pair didn't disconnect from me. I made sure I didn't turn my head to meet them. Even focusing on Wendy's words were better than to acknowledge his smoky eyes on me. Just for this once. I guess that's why I remember Wendy's last words.

'And remember. This is not an ending. This is just the beginning.'

What a fucking cheep cliché, I thought as I clapped my hands together.

'What a cheep cliché,' Kenny whispered, leaning into my ear from the back. I chuckled as our voices were overpowered by the cheering of our small group of graduating students.

And it ended. The ceremony went on for too long for everybody's liking, but the whole event ended with a flash. Cheers and applauds echoed around the wide walls of the gym, bouncing off and hitting the graduates right on the heart. Some laughed their heads off in ecstatic bliss, and others sobbed with glowing red noses drowning their last visions of the school with tears.

The echoing voices slowly drained out as we stepped out of the gym, the voices that were trapped a second ago now being released into the wide, spring sky. The shadow of the covers finished as we stepped out of the cover, and light casted on us.

And so now it had really finished.

Soft wind brushed past me, stroking the scarlet hair that covered the tattoo underneath.

I was free.

My face was blank as I stood on the school field, free of that dark cap and gown that made the whole thing feel like a funeral. The sky was blue and high, plain, without a cloud, like summer, like my mind. Slowly, thoughts began to enter my head and I could feel emotion light my face up with lively colour. And I ran.

I could see his blond hair shining under the sun in the distance. He was talking to someone, but I didn't care. I ran towards him as fast as my newly freed legs could manage, and just as he began to turn, I jumped onto him and immediately captured his unexpected lips.

'Kenny!' I cheered in that moment of assuagement, 'it's over!'

He was staring at me with his icy-blue eyes, unable to blink, and unable to speak. Like the guy next to him who he was just talking to. So I pressed our lips together again, more deeply this time.

'It's over. We've made it…'

Slowly, emotion began to leak into his face. His eyes softened with kind-hearted and loving relief as his lips curled into a gentle and sincere smile.

'We've made it.' He repeated the words, but with a calming sense of reality as he took me into his eyes.

'Err…' an awkward voice interfered, making us turn, and I finally noticed that it was Butters that Kenny was talking to. For that short second our eyes met I could feel both of us freeze.

'Are… Are you fellas together?' He finally continued, fiddling with his hands. 'Like, together-together?'

'No Butters we are just kissing because we are trapped in this one moment of mind-numbing euphoria and have absolutely no feelings for each other.' I said sarcastically, but Butters didn't seem to catch my tone.

'Oh, okay. Sorry,' he muttered quickly, before trotting away. Even though I hadn't talked to him for over two years, it was obvious that there was something in between us that had not faded away. And to be honest, as I watched his back walk away with remorse and self-loathing, I felt the reactionary anger inside me towards his presence instantly morph into a sense of guilt and regret.

'Each other?' I clicked my eyes off of Butters' back to Kenny's shining blue eyes.

'Huh?'

'Feelings for _each other_?' he repeated with a questionable grin.

'Is that what I said?'

He chuckled softly and leaned in, barely keeping an inch between our faces.

'You never told me that _you_ had feelings for _me_.'

My face burnt suddenly, from cream to scarlet, so I tensed the muscles in my face as much as I could to hide my embarrassment.

'Fuck off Kenny—' I muttered and turned away, ready to leave this school, light-heartedly, once and for all. Kenny chuckled merrily, and caught up to me with a skip.

Yet even though I was twirling around with Kenny as if nothing else existed in the world, I knew, and I could feel it: the pair of smoky eyes staring at us as we left the school.

It was quiet now, without the voices of other kids cheering and chatting. It was quiet now, although my face was still burning and my heart was still thumping. So I took his hand. And just as quickly, he curled our fingers together, tightly.

We walked like that for a few minutes, breathing the fresh spring air flexing into summer. Until my feet stopped, on that familiar road now dressed in rich green, and looked to the side.

'Stark's Pond,' I murmured, looking at the water in the distance swaying with the gentle wind.

'Do you want to go there?' Kenny asked. With my eyes still on the water, I nodded.

The last time I had been there the whole place was covered in cold and white, and now, it was covered in warmth and all shades of green. We stopped our feet at the bank, and I crouched down to feel the clear water tickle my fingers. Kenny sat on a nearby boulder and watched.

'The party starts in a few hours…' I murmured, finally plopping my gingers out of the water.

'…You don't really want to go to the party do you?'

'Never said I wanted to—' I hopped onto the empty space on the boulder beside Kenny, 'Doesn't stop me from going though.'

The sun was beginning to set, spreading a hint of orange into the sky. I entangled my fingers with Kenny's and looked at the colours of the sky slowly change. I think Kenny was doing the same too. I could feel a storm of thoughts and emotions roaring through his mind simply by the heat entering me through his fingers. Silently, I waited for him to open his mouth to voice his thoughts, even though unconsciously, I held a sense of nervous fear.

'Remember what you said earlier?'

'Huh?' I swang my head at the sudden voice and froze when I met his eyes.

'About our feelings for each other.'

My face burnt at Kenny's reply. But this time, there wasn't a mischievous grin on Kenny's mouth; there wasn't even his habitual smile. His eyes were straight and strong with determination, as if there was nothing more important right now. The blush slowly drifted away from my face as his seriousness sat in.

'Yes.'

He bit his lip, but his eyes stayed the same. I couldn't tear my gaze away.

'Kyle, I love you.' My heart jumped at the sudden word that had previously caused me severe fear, but was able to hold on to it. 'You already know that, although you might not know how much—'

I gulped. My heart was beginning to race uncomfortably, and our hands connecting suddenly felt like it was on fire.

'But Kyle, I need to know—' I wanted to run away, because I knew what was coming, and I knew its importance, 'What feelings do you have for me?'

I needed to confront the feelings that I held.

Silence followed. My heart was no longer thumping in my ears and our hands were warm but not burning. I felt a calm and soothing breeze flow through my mind, as if it announced the end of a storm. The tsunami of thoughts and emotions that were threatening to explode and kill me a second ago were now merely gentle ripples. I wasn't sure, I was maybe still in denial, but I had accepted what was deep inside me.

'Kenny, do you remember the first time we slept together?' His eyes widened, but then he nodded in subtle resignation. 'I used you and your reputation to get rid of my virginity before _he_ stole it from me. So that I had this one control, one last struggle, against him.'

It would have been a lie if I said I wasn't anxious, and slightly scared of confronting myself for the loathing ugly truth, and then revealing them. But there was no regret, or sorrow in my voice.

With those words Kenny tilted his head down, as if in shame and remorse.

'I think… I might have used you as well,' he murmured, his hand weakening its grip, 'I always tried to ignore or suppress the feelings I had for you, for years, but they never really disappeared. I knew that you only wanted to sleep with me out of impulse, out of a moment's weakness, but… I used that chance, to get what I always wanted.'

I nodded. I kind of knew that somewhere. That was how I came up with my conclusion.

'So I used you and you used me…' I strengthened the connection of our hands, and although the blond boy kept his head down, he instantly tightened his grip as well. 'I guess that is what you call love…'

Kenny swang his head up at my words and looked into me with eyes wide as if he had just hallucinated, as if he couldn't believe my words. So I repeated.

'We both used each other. Isn't that love?'

We both used each other, in a way that threatened both our worlds. But instead of destruction, it had brought us together.

The confusion slowly flowed away from his eyes and the tension in his face began to soften with relief.

'I don't know if I agree on your philosophy on love there, but… Yeah. I think this is love.' He let go of my hand, only to wrap his arms around my back and pull my body against his heart. '—Definitely.'

I didn't smile. I didn't frown. I simply listened to his heartbeat harmonise with my own thumping in my chest.

.

Darkness overtook the sky almost too quickly. Night had come, and it was time for a party.

No one invited us into Eric's house, but the door was open for free entry. What welcomed us instead though, was music (if you could call ground-shaking beat "music") and the stench of alcohol mixed with sweat and cheep perfume.

'He—ey Kenny! What's up!' Kevin Stoley called, twisting his arm around the blond with his other hand occupied with a beer can. And then his drunken eyes caught me. 'Kyle? Hey dude! Didn't think you'd be here! Awesome!' He laughed, wondering away cheering Kenny and my appearance merrily into the air.

'Yo Kenny— Oh, hey Kyle!' Token appeared, less drunken than Kevin, and extended his hand with the undeniable class the guy had leaking out of him. 'Congratulations on Stanford!'

'Err… thanks?' I blushed, taking his hand embarrassingly.

'Man, I bet nobody from South Park ever went into such a university! But Kyle, I swear, with the amount of work you did, you deserve it!'

I cringed slightly at the obvious compliment. I never had the conscious that I was trying hard. Studying and looking towards the future was my only salvation, sans Kenny. It was a means for survival.

'Well, I'll see you around guys. Good luck Kyle!'

I waved at his back as he walked away, cheeks slightly burning with heat.

'What are you grinning at?' Kenny poked his head in curiously, making me stop my waving.

'Nothing. Just— I never imagined that, even sharing just a few words with some old friends could make me feel so happy.'

Kenny blinked, then spread a warm, understanding smile right across his face.

'Well, how about you go talk to some more friends while I go wondering around? It's the last chance we've got with everyone still in one place.'

I looked around. The bodies swaying and moving to the melody-less music like drunken baboons suddenly morphed into people I recognised. Most people I've known since preschool.

'Yeah…' I murmured, eyes still swaying around different faces and bodies. 'That's a good idea.'

Kenny smiled one last time, before disappearing into the crowd of people. I had to be grateful for him. I knew that his suggestion was to push me into the chance of socialising with my old friends that I may never see again. The ones that I was forced to drift away from.

But first, there was one person I was looking for. In the dark room with colourful flashing lights, I looked for his leafy blond hair.

'Butters!' I called when I saw what appeared to be the tall boy. He jumped slightly, and turned my way. 'I need to talk to you!'

He looked at me wide-eyed, confused, and slightly fearful as if he was about to bolt, so I took his arm without another word and dragged him somewhere, anywhere, that was quieter. To the kitchen.

'He- hey Kyle, what do you want to talk about?' He asked anxiously when I finally let go of his hand to shut the door behind us. He was fiddling with his fingers again. I sighed softly at his fearful actions, and then sat on a kitchen stool, indicating Butters to do the same.

'I know what Eric was doing to you,' I began, the first words making Butters jump. 'I found out how he was taking money from you, and then punching you when you didn't have anything to give him. I also knew that he strangled you once.'

He froze and stared at me with wide eyes, then suddenly chuckled softly, without humour.

'Oh, yeah. I- I remember that… He had been bullying me since junior high school. I think it was the last year. I didn't have the- the guts to do anything but then, suddenly… he stopped…' his lips began to tremble, water began to glisten his eyes; I watched him intently as he continued. 'I… I know why he stopped. B- but I was too scared of doing anything about that either… So I began to tell myself that there was no reason. He just stopped bullying because he grew out of it. But I knew… I always knew that—'

'He had only changed his target,' I finished for him. He twitched at my words, but then nodded.

'I'm sorry… I'm so sorry Kyle…'

'Don't apologise,' I quietly snapped, 'Please don't…'

Just because I didn't want Butters to feel self-loathing didn't mean that I could forgive him, even if it wasn't his fault. To hear an apology that I couldn't respond to, couldn't forgive, was the worst.

'Look, I didn't talk to you to hear an apology, okay? I know how you always blamed yourself and felt guilty all the time. And I wish I could blame you, I really do, but… I know, that this would have happened. No matter what…'

Because Eric wasn't looking for an easy target. He wasn't looking for a means to kill time. He was looking for me.

Silence followed, both of us dwelling on the heavy atmosphere that was resting on our shoulders. The months of suffering Butters went through before it finally finished, and the years that I had been through until that day. The fact that they seemed so long ago, yet still taunted him, and will taunt me, forever.

'Butters, can I ask? What kind of things did Eric do to you?'

He blinked at my question, at the weird and personal question. But without a comment, he looked up, past the wall ahead and at his thoughts and his memories in the far distance.

'Well, as you said, he took my lunch money from me, and punched me whenever I didn't have anything to give him. He took me to the forth floor bathroom sometimes, to punch me and he also strangled me once or twice. The worst was when he pushed my face into the toilet bowl and made me drink the water; it made me sick. He also hurt me secretly during PE, broke some of my stuff and ripped my clothes in the change room but… I don't know. It's strange… It was almost like he was trying out things, like experimenting. Or maybe that's what all bullies are like…'

_Experimenting_…

'Did he ever…' I didn't know how to word my thoughts without sounding insensitive, or too personal. 'Did he ever, like, do anything to you? Sexually?'

'No!' he half laughed, half gasped. 'He was a bully Kyle, not a rapist.'

I nodded in response, weakly. So that was reality. Everyone's reality, everyone's but mine. I don't know why, but Butters' words created a sense of complete despair inside me, as well as a sense of strong relief.

'Thanks Butters,' I said, getting up from the stool and onto my two feet, 'Thanks for talking to me.'

'No!' He gasped, jumping onto his feet. 'Thank _you_ Kyle! Thank _you_ for talking to _me_! I feel so much better now. Thanks.'

I smiled, then reached up to ruffle his leafy blond hair like I used to, letting the tall child smile warmly in relief and nostalgic happiness. And then I walked away. Inside, I was conflicted, but maybe his smile was worth it. And I guess in the end, I was right. No matter what Butters would have done, nothing would have changed. Eric wouldn't have changed, and neither would have I.

As I exited the kitchen a loud round of applause filled the air. Two people had arrived, finally, with merely an hour to go until midnight. I reached up onto my toes, to find Wendy and Stan, the legendary couple, enter the party. They were probably fucking again, I thought with unintentional sarcasm. But at that second my heart froze. For the second time that day, I met Stan's dark blue eyes, right from pupil to pupil. But Stan quickly broke our connection again and leaned into Wendy's ear, telling her something that made his girlfriend look around until she spotted me, with a glare. And then, my heart pounded as Stan began to move this way, his eyes on my direction. I quickly fell onto the heels of my feet, hiding myself behind the shadows of everyone, debating whether to run away or to stay and wait for my former best friend.

'Kyle!'

Too late.

'Kyle!' I felt his firm grip grab onto my hand, making me look up to meet his eyes again. But then his lips suddenly formed into a wide, cheerful smile, contrasting so much from his earlier eyes drenched in seriousness. 'Hey dude!'

I was almost lost for words.

'Hi.'

'Hey, let's go somewhere quieter! I can't hear a thing here!'

Before getting a reply, he dragged me by the hand. As he did, his girlfriend's glare entered my head, but then, just as quickly, it disappeared, and I focused on my friend's back pulling me away with him.

'That's better—' Stan sighed, setting himself down on the steps of the front door. And it was true. The deep beats of the music and the loud voices of all the kids couldn't be heard from outside, as if being drowned in the dark night or sucked into the high black sky above. 'Aren't you gonna sit down?'

I jumped slightly, suddenly feeling awkward as I looked down at him sitting on the steps in front of me. Slowly, and carefully, I placed myself next to him. Our sides touched, and I could feel his warmth leak into me through my arm, shoulder, hip and knee. I couldn't even remember the last time we were so close.

'So, how's things been?' His words were obviously uncomfortable, as if nervousness had finally crept onto him. I opened my mouth to answer, but then realised that I didn't have one, so I shrugged silently instead.

'Don't want to talk?' Stan's interpretation of my body language widened my eyes.

'No. It's nice.'

'That's good.' There was a wide smile on his face again, created from sheer happiness, and relief. 'I like it too.'

My face didn't change, but I could feel an invisible smile leak through me.

'How about you?' I asked, 'How have you been?'

'Good, I guess…' he said with a shrug, 'But thing's just aren't the same without you Kyle.'

My heart thumped, making me freeze as I listened to Stan's confession. His words were so unexpected. I mean, I never thought that my mere presence could change a person's life. Maybe it was because I had lost everything and became numb to it over time. Or maybe I had made myself so insignificant, or was made that way, by Eric. But still I could acknowledge the truth behind Stan's words, and that I had contributed somewhat, to his life.

'My life is different too…' Without you Stan, and without everything.

I felt Stan smile sadly next to me, but with a hint of relief, thinking that I was feeling the same way as him. That we had both meant something to each other's life.

'I miss you Kyle…'

'I miss you too Stan.' There was no doubt about it. I missed our friendship, and the life that came with it. I missed my oblivious happiness and the ability to live through every day without numbing my mind and body for mere survival. I missed it.

'Do you—' Stan chuckled nervously before continuing, 'Do you think that there's any chance that thing's might go back to where there were before? Between us and everything, and everyone? I mean, everything just kinda, _collapsed_, and I have no idea why…'

It was the first time I heard hurt in his voice. The first time I came to contact with Stan's pain and confusion. I imagined it, but never came to contact with it. Come to think of it, being with Kenny had taught me how agonising it was to be without knowledge, so now finally, I was able to feel Stan's pain.

But I'm sorry Stan…

I shook my head lightly, from side to side.

'No, they can't.'

I noticed Stan's whole body sink at my words, all his happiness and expectations instantly drop. I watched him with almost pity. Pity for the perfect football captain, the most popular guy in school with the "perfect" girlfriend.

But still, it was truly impossible to get back what slipped out of our hands and shattered to the ground. But maybe, from tomorrow, from the new beginning that was ahead of me—

'It's possible to make new things…' He swang his head up, sudden expectation returning to his eyes. I smiled weakly, but with everything I could muster. 'Maybe we can start again.'

And with those words, Stan smiled too. Warmth and hope overcame me and melted into the air around us.

We stayed there for a few more minutes, letting our bodies and breaths relax in the silent atmosphere of the night, until it was broken, when Wendy, about to burst from frustration, came to take her boyfriend away. The smile that was gently resting on Stan's lips dropped, and he gave me one last regretful glance, before following his girlfriend into the house reluctantly.

I waved, but the smile on my lips stayed. I didn't know why, but happiness was sinking into me, slowly, but surely. Two years ago, having Stan dragged away from me by Wendy would have dampened my spirits like no other, but now, simply sharing a few words with my old friend seemed like such a miracle, it was completely fulfilling.

'Hey—' I blinked at the voice that called.

'Kenny…' the blond sat down next to me where Stan was a minute ago, as if he had always been there, and strangely, it felt that way to me too. He looked into me with a soft warm smile, as if he couldn't have been happier for me.

'So, have you guys made up?'

'With Stan? …Yeah. I think so.'

'I can tell by the smile!' he chuckled gently, 'I'm happy for you.'

'I can tell by the smile.' I repeated his words and lightly kissed him, making the smile drop from his face for a second, before it returned to him, wider than ever.

'Is it just me, or is this worth a toast?'

I chuckled, and shook my head.

'I guess… just this once.'

My response was welcomed with a cheer.

'In that case, I'll make us some drinks—'

'Wait!' I shot up onto my feet, making Kenny stop half way in the air. 'I'll go make some!'

He looked at me with raised eyebrows.

'No, I'm pretty sure _I_ should be the one making drinks here Kyle. It's to celebrate _you_ after all.'

'No, it's to celebrate _us_—' my lips froze, but my temperature instantly rose, making my face burn. For a second Kenny looked at me with wide eyes, but then slowly, relaxed into a kind smile.

'Okay. I'll wait here then,' for a second I was afraid that he would make fun of my blush again, 'but come back before that pretty blush of yours disappears,' okay, I was wrong.

'Fuck you Ken.'

He laughed, loud, cheerful, and kind.

'No, but really, come back within twenty minutes!'

'Dude, it won't take me twenty minutes to make two fucking drinks… why?'

His answer was a simple, cheesy wink, which couldn't have been a clearer answer to me. I looked at my phone to confirm.

'More like nineteen minutes,' I smirked, before leaning down to press my lips on his forehead. I made sure I rushed inside before he could see the red smile on my face.

Nineteen minutes from now, I would be sitting on that doorstep with Kenny again with drinks in our hands. Our glasses would ring together and announce midnight. Announce the time of my rebirth. Romantic shit is gay. But hey, I _am_ gay, after all.

As earlier in the night, when I made it through the dark room of crowded people and roaring music, I fell into the quiet, bright room, also known as the kitchen. There were cheep alcohol rolling around everywhere in the other room, but I didn't want to scavenge around the swarming people looking for two drinks, that, and I hated beer.

I should have thought a little, but for that night _he_ was completely locked out of my head. Even as I walked through his front door, through his living room, and into his isolated kitchen, that didn't change.

_Fifteen minutes._

I poked my head into random cabinets as two glasses waited on the kitchen bench, 'Where does he leave his booze?'

'In the top-left cabinet.'

It was only once I heard his voice that his existence returned to my life, strong, like an electric shock.

Slowly, I opened the top-left cabinet and took out a new wine bottle, the liquid inside, a deep and dark red. Eyes on the rich scarlet bottle, I turned back, and then looked up, to meet his smoky eyes. Only then, did I finally notice that his gaze had existed all night, right on my back, like it had been all day.

'Eric—'

'Are you celebrating something?' He sliced through my voice, and with his heavy, smoking gaze, tore through my eyes.

'Yeah I am, with Kenny.' I was standing tall and strong, eyes strong, voice strong, and looked straight at him. 'We're celebrating the end.'

His brow twitched, and the smoke in his eyes suddenly blazed like fire, silently, with rage. Before I could take a step back, he reached out and grabbed my wrist forcefully, barely letting me yelp at the sudden aggression. The wine bottle slipped out of my hand in surprise and crashed into the white kitchen floor, deep red liquid splattering everywhere as I was dragged out the room by Eric.

My feet burnt against the floor as he yanked me through the hallway, and my ankles crashed against the edges of the stairs as he pulled me up to his room. Every person standing around, a potential source of help, were all either too drunk, or too preoccupied eating mouths of the opposite sex to notice Eric and me. That, and my body was long since conditioned to not reach out for help, no matter what was about to come. No matter what.

The door slammed shut, locking all the light out of the bedroom and leaving me with no where to go as I was pinned against the solid timber. Thick lips drowned in the stench of alcohol attacked me, so desperately and aggressively as if Eric didn't care if I bled or choked to death from it. When he finally let go, it was only so that he could burn me with his raging eyes.

'What the fuck do you mean _the_ _end_?' he hissed, grabbing my jaw to pull my face up. I bit down in disgust and fear, but the silence only made Eric bash my head into the door behind me.

'School is over. I'm moving away from South Park, away from you—' as I stared into those fiery orbs, slowly, quietly, but firmly, my voice began to produce quivering words, 'I will live on, the nightmares will end, the scars will disappear, you will disappear… That is what's going to end. _We_ will end.'

A sudden electric shock tore through my body. A cold hand slid up my top, tracing a finger down the scars that were whipped into my back, again and again and again through the months. His lips attacked me, and he brought our crotches together. It was as if he was trying to remind me— trying to force me to relive the nightmares that I lived through countless times— All so that he could burn the message into me, so strongly, that I will never forget it.

'It will never end,' Eric whispered into my ear, his hands slicing my skin, '_We_ will never end…'

…No Eric. It's already over— Under the heavy breaths and attacking hands I tried to regain my breath to form words, but my voice died inside me before they reached either of us. I was beginning to drown again, in the deep dark pit of black—

'Kyle?' a sudden knock on the door shook through my back and into Eric's touch, making both of us freeze. I could begin to feel myself again all because of that voice. Kenny's voice… 'Kyle, are you in there?'

My lips parted shakily, but then as every time before, my mouth shut as I looked into Eric's eyes.

'Keep quiet.' He whispered. My eyes slowly began to widen. 'Keep quiet…' it was almost like a plea. He dropped his face onto my shoulder, hands grabbing onto my skin as he said those quiet words.

He slowly lifted his head up, looking into me with eyes of light hazel. Was it the alcohol? Or was this his real—

'Please.'

I couldn't blink, but slowly, under that gaze and in his hold, I softly shook my head.

My finger flicked the lock of the door, and before the light that suddenly entered the room could reach Eric, I slammed it shut. I couldn't believe it. Everything. Now that I had escaped Eric's dark room and was in the bright corridor, looking into Kenny's blue eyes, everything seemed like it was a dream.

'Oh, there you were!' Kenny's cheer brought me back to reality. 'You had been away for fifteen minutes so I got a little worried. I was looking all over for you.'

'Sorry,' I murmured, trying to regain my excited breaths. I pressed my palm to my chest and felt the fast beat, still having difficulty to believe what had just happened.

'So, did you get the drinks?' Kenny asked with a grin, but I shook my head.

'Maybe we can celebrate another day. I'm tired now,' my hand reached for Kenny's, shaking slightly, 'let's just go home.'

Kenny blinked, but soon let his face relax into his warm smile.

'Sounds good to me.'

_Four minutes._

I looked back one last time, to the firm door closed on Eric's bedroom, before turning forward and feeling Kenny's heat sink into my hand.

We managed through the stench of people, and when it ended, we were outside, the clean air caressing us and the millions of shining stars lighting our way.

There were a few people on the front lawn, drinking, watching the stars and just having a rest from all the action inside.

'Hey, you guys leaving already?' Stan's voice called, slightly drunker than before.

_Three minutes._

Kenny turned, opening his wide smile to answer, and it was that second as we were about to say goodbye, that slicing wind tore past me to attack. At that second, Kenny was flown right off his feet and went crashing into the ground.

'Kenny!' I shouted in panic. The blond was suddenly lying there, a few feet away from me, from where he was a second ago. He groaned in pain and leaned up, slowly onto his feet, letting a sigh leak out of me. But then, just as relief began to sit in, a tall, dark figure walked passed me like a shadow. He continued to flow with heavy feet right towards the hurting blond. Kenny watched him come close and glared, rubbing his sore cheek with his bent wrist.

'What the fuck Cartman?' He shouted, before his eyes widened as another fist shot his way. He ducked it just in time and sent his own fist right into Eric's jaw in reflex. 'No, dude, seriously, what the fuck!' But the next punch from Eric was so sudden and unexpected that it crashed Kenny into the ground again.

'Oh wow, he's way too fucking drunk…' I heard a few guys murmur in the distance, but my eyes were fixed on the struggling two.

'Eric no! Stop!' my voice screamed as I ran towards the struggling two. But the second I tried to push Eric off I was sent flying to the ground.

'Kyle!' Kenny called. Yet when I looked up, all I could focus on was Eric's eyes staring right back at me. His wide, lost eyes…

Suddenly, our connected eyes were broken as Kenny pulled the brunet up by the collar and onto his feet, glaring into him. 'Don't you fucking hurt him!' the blond yelled and pushed right through Eric's chest, making his powerless body stumble a few feet backward.

_One minute._

We all stared as Eric hovered back powerlessly in silence. And when he finally stopped his drunk, disarmed body, he was standing on the middle of the road. The shadow of isolation and loneliness cast upon him as he stood there on that thick river of black asphalt. And still we all stared, without a single word.

Slowly and weakly, Eric drew his head up, and our eyes met again. My heart didn't jump, my eyes didn't widen, but the world suddenly stopped. The only people that existed were Eric and me as everyone else began to disappear.

I didn't move, I just stared, that was all that I could do. The person that had my life in his palm for so long now seemed completely stripped bare. Slowly, in the distance I could hear voices begin to shout, but they were merely a mutter in the background. All I could focus on was Eric, standing under the stars on that dark, dark road. Defenceless, disarmed, disowned, I could almost see him as he was. Nothing but a human.

_Ten seconds._

Eric's hand slowly began to rise, and I watched it delicately flow up through the air, until it was pointing at me. No, he was reaching out to me.

_One second._

Now my eyes began to widen as I watched his extended hand, his pleading eyes dyed in the colour of sorrow and deep and desperate entreaty.

'Kyle—'

The world began to move with a sudden explosion. The tearing sound burst through my ears, the blinding lights sliced through my wide eyes and shredded my heart. It was almost like a massive firework that celebrated the new beginning.

I was meant to be there with two drinks celebrating midnight with Kenny.

Instead of that, I was standing there, pupils dilated, heart racing and my whole body about to burst into flames.

Instead of a gentle toast, it was horrified screams that celebrated the beginning.

Instead of red wine, it was splattered blood that celebrated the end.

Midnight, the twenty-sixth of May, Eric Cartman was hit by a car.


	20. Chapter 20

'_Where did I go wrong?_

_I lost a friend somewhere along in the bitterness_

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known how to save a life'_

_-The Fray, "How to save a life"_

Step 36: Don't be scared of death

_Chapter Twenty: Blue Loss_

A couple of months after Kenny left South Park, I was rushing up the stairs with two bowls of ice cream in my hands. I jumped up the last two steps and then kicked my bedroom door open for dramatic entry.

'Cartman! Desert!' I called to the chubby boy leaning against my bed tiredly. He looked up at me with those eyes of fatigue, but then slowly let them fall back to the ground with a small grunt. The lack of enthusiasm I got for the ice cream created a wave of confusion and worry. 'Don't you want ice cream?'

My soft, confused voice made him wonder his eyes up to me slightly annoyed.

'Kahl, I just ate a whole meal of your family's Jew-food. Do you think I have room for your Jew-ice cream?'

'Dude, you only ate half of that too. Besides, you always eat kosher here.'

He let his lids droop over his eyes boringly, but the fact that he ignored me didn't irritate me as much as it made me worried. I placed the two bowls on the ground and snuck up to him. Quietly, I knelt my bony knees on the floor before Eric and drew in to his face.

'Wha—' he gasped the second I placed my forehead against his. I felt his heat intently through that connection, like my mother did to me when I was sick.

'It looks like you don't have a fever. Which leaves me with no explanation for your acting-weirdness.'

'Kahl, you should seriously stop doing that super gay pressing-your-forehead-against-another-person thing. It's simply not good for the heart to find your Jew-face up so close.'

'Fuck off,' I said, picking up the bowls of ice cream from the floor. 'I'll bring these back. Then we can go to sleep if you want.'

'What?' he blinked, 'Don't you want to eat yours?'

'Dude,' I chuckled, 'Eating ice cream without you is no fun. Now get your sleeping bag ready before I come back.'

He stared at me blackly as I closed the door and rushed down to give the not-eaten desert bowls to my mom. By the time I went back to my room Eric was already in his sleeping bag, staring up at the blank ceiling.

'Dude, I—' he looked up at me with raised eyebrows, which made me shut my mouth. 'Never-mind.'

I hopped onto my bed and dug myself into my covers ready for sleep, but as I stared into the darkness the fatass' silence wouldn't escape my conscious. Come to think of it, he _was_ strange that day. He didn't tease me for being Jewish much, didn't threat to sue me for winning against him in zombie-slayers and ate less than half of usual. It's not like I didn't like him like that, hell it made me like him more than usual. But it was worrying. And as I stared into the darkness shaped in Eric's lying figure, it began to eat me.

'Hey, Cartman.' I whispered, testing if he was awake. He grunted in response, so I raised my cover, letting the cold air in to show him the extra space in my bed. 'Do you want to sleep in my bed?'

My eyes were getting used to the dark, and I could see him swing his head up to stare at me with mixed emotions. But as he looked at the space revealed through the risen covers, his face began to relax. Without a word, he snuck himself into my single bed, making us squeeze our growing bodies up against each other in that small space.

'Dude, you're so cold!' I squirmed, groaning at the temperature of his body and the cold air that he let in.

'Well sor-ree if you forced me to sleep on your freezing floor Kahl.'

I groaned again, and wrapped my arms around his back, trying to warm his body up as quickly as possible. Silence fell between us as we lay there with my arms around Eric's back, but slowly and surely, I felt his whole body warm up from my heat.

'There. That's much better.' I murmured, mind drifting to sleep. My arms slowly began to slide off Eric's back, but before they could completely fall off, they stopped in mid-air as Eric wrapped his own arms around me. With his hands around my back, he brought us closer together.

'It's still fucking freezing…'

I didn't think much of that intimacy. Pretty much every cold night Stan slept over we hugged each other to sleep. Yet somewhere, that intimacy told me that maybe, just maybe, Eric and I would become best friends. Maybe, someday, we would learn not to hate each other, become best friends instead, and become inseparable. Maybe, we would even learn to love each other.

As warmness wrapped so comfortably around the both of us, sleep was beginning to drown us in its hold. And I murmured, sometime in the midst of falling into the darkness and feeling Eric next to me.

'Good night, Eric.'

And I heard a soft response back.

'Good night, Kyle.'

.

'I killed him...'

I turned my head at the murmuring voice to find Kenny with his hands cupping his eyes, shoulders hunched over as he sat next to me on the hospital sofa. Regret and self-loathing was leaking out of him like a shadow, casting over the cold floor.

'I killed him…' he repeated.

'You didn't kill him, Kenny.' My words were quiet, barely a whisper. But my words were strong inside me. Kenny hadn't killed Eric; he couldn't have with merely a small push to the chest.

_I_ was the one that killed him. I was hoping and wishing for his death so strongly, that it had come true. I killed Eric. _I_ did.

'Kyle's right Kenny,' Stan leaned over, looking into Kenny's shocked face. 'You didn't kill Cartman. He's still alive, I bet dude.'

Weakly, Kenny lowered his fingers from his eyes and glanced at Stan smiling reassuringly at him. And then he looked at me. I tried to muster the same smile Stan had, and I don't know if it worked, but a small hint of a smile tinted Kenny's lips in response nonetheless.

It was difficult being in that cold, silent and dark waiting room. In my head were still the screams, still the screeching of the car wheels, and the big bang that came with it. Inside my head were still Eric's last word, and his eyes that pleaded to me.

'Maybe we should go back home. Come back in the morning,' Stan suggested. 'It's already been a couple of hours since the operation and both you guys are about to lose your minds. I mean, you've only been saying that you killed him and _you_ have hardly said _anything_ since the whole accident—' he indicated me. It was strange; I didn't notice that I had been silent. I didn't even know that it had already been two hours since we came here.

'Maybe Stan's right—'

'Huh?' I looked at Kenny's hurting eyes.

'We can't see him now and it's true, we are about to lose our minds 'cause of it. Liane's in there, looking after him, so he would be all right. We can come back in the morning after everything's over.'

I stayed silent, but my eyes were wide and vibrant. I could tell they were by the way Kenny took my gaze as a "yes".

'You know,' Stan said with a forcefully cheerful voice as he jumped out of the back seat of Kenny's orange truck, once we arrived at the apartment. 'I knew you guys have grown _close_. But I didn't think that you guys had grown _that_ close.'

He indicated my hand that was connected with Kenny's, and for the first time, I found out that I had been holding his hand since midnight.

'Well, you didn't get the chance to…'

We all stayed at Kenny's house with the plan to sleep and go back to the hospital. But the plan didn't really stay for me, although it did somewhat for Kenny and Stan. But me, I couldn't even close my eyes. My eyes were wide open and I didn't even notice myself blink. My mind was the same too, wide-awake without a single thought, like an empty wasteland. I couldn't feel any emotion, I couldn't think a thought. It was as if I was completely paralysed.

Hours ticked by, and slowly, early morning orange began to leak in through the windows, dyeing the apartment floor into a deep wine red. I stared at that colour intently, but still not a single word had echoed in my mind. It was not until that deep wine had changed into burnt hazel that my two friends woke up with a heavy ghost weighing their spirits down.

'Morning,' Kenny murmured, sliding a hand around my shoulder in comfort. 'How long have you been up for?'

'Some time…'

'Did you sleep at all?'

My mouth opened, and then closed, and then opened again aimlessly.

'Maybe…' It felt like I did, sleep that is. It felt like I had been in a long dream, a long nightmare, and was still in it.

The curtains were drawn open by Stan, letting a burst of light into the room and cast brightly on Kenny and me. The burning and blinding sun soon relaxed into a warm heat, and finally I could feel something. Finally, I could feel Kenny's contact on my skin.

'It will be okay,' Kenny said, looking into my eyes with his gentle icy-blues. 'It will be okay, Kyle'

I could see the sun in his eyes, as if it were a clear sky. With my eyes on that sky I pressed my lips against his, and let the heat flow through the both of us.

'It will be okay,' I repeated.

We left the warming apartment with hopes slowly lighting up our hearts. Yet what kind of hope was in me, the other two could not have imagined. I couldn't even make it out myself. I only knew that I had a comforting feeling caressing me, and I called that _hope_.

We were silent in the car. Rocking gently against the small bumps of the road, we each listened to the sound of our heartbeat. I clung close to Kenny the second we left the small truck, making Stan talk to the receptionist and to a doctor while I stood there with Kenny's hand in my hold. As we waited I stared into the empty hallway ahead, rows and rows of windows on one side, and doors on the other.

The footsteps that we made as we carried ourselves through the hospital seemed to echo softly through the hollow hallway. With each step, I could feel the air flow in and out of my lungs so easily and relaxingly. The white, yet only subtly warm sunlight shone through the countless rows of windows, lighting our way to the room where our old friend laid.

I didn't let go of Kenny's hand as I placed my other on the door handle, and as if it were a stream of water, I slid the door open gently.

Light. The juxtaposition was compelling. The room was coated in pure and beautiful white, letting the sunlight cast through the window to make the whole room glow. It was what every person would have described as heaven, which ironically held the bed of my Devil. Finally letting go of Kenny's hand, I slowly took a step towards the white bed that held him.

'So, what did the doctors say?' Kenny asked Stan in the distance.

I was moving as fast as I could, but everything seemed to be so slow.

'I didn't get the details, but the operation went well. He fractured both his legs pretty badly, but he can walk again probably, _if_ he goes through the intense rehab.'

'If? What do you mean, _if_?'

My mind was strangely soothed, free of thoughts as I moved towards the white bed. My body was like a cloud in the sky, drifting slowly through the air.

'Well, he might not be… able to, _do_ the rehab.'

'Why the fuck wouldn't he?'

Tension was in the air, cold, heavy, ear-numbing tension.

'Because— because apparently…'

'Apparently what?'

Kenny and Stan's voice sounded like it was flowing through water, only much, much clearer. They were the soft wind in the air that no one listened to. Unsteady emotion began to quiver inside them, but the emotion didn't reach me.

I reached the foot of the bed, and began to float around it.

'Apparently he's… ah—'

'What? What _is_ it Stan?'

My feet took their last steps, and I arrived at the head of the bed to look into the Devil's face—

'A coma.' I looked into the closed eyes of the person lying still on the bed. 'Apparently he's in a coma...'

I stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. In front of me, wrapped in innocent white sheets, was Eric Cartman. He was surrounded in silence and stillness, far away, in a dream.

The other's voices did not reach me anymore. But the calmness inside me slowly began to develop ripples, which then began to form into waves.

The world slowly began to disappear. All I could focus on was Eric, simply lying there, without a word, without a sound. Lying there, without a single thought, or even a ghost of emotion. Lying there, as if he was dead. Dead. Dead. …Dead? Eric? The Devil? After killing me so many times? Eric? After ripping me to shreds and putting me back together, only so that he could break me again? Eric? Eric? _Dead? Leaving me here without a conclusion? Without remorse? An apology? A good bye?_

_Leaving _me?

A loud scream tore through the heavenly air.

'Kyle?'

The scream continued to rip through the room, and my fist flung up uncontrollably, and slit the air as it shot down.

'Kyle!'

My fist hit the lying body, only to be raised again, to hit him again. My other arm raised and shot down just the same, in vicious and frantically desperate turns with my other arm. They punched and hit and tore, over and over and over again, with a continuous scream that shocked all the eardrums in the room.

'Kyle! Kyle, what the fuck! Stop!' Stan's voice called, his strong muscles grabbing me from the back. But I didn't register it. Even under the restraint, I simply screamed and struggled violently and desperately, to get free and hit the lying body more and more.

I wanted to hit him until my body was satisfied.

I wanted to hit until my whole body shuttered into a million pieces and fell to the floor.

I wanted to hit until I died.

'Kenny! Fucking hell, don't just stand there! Fucking do something! Help me!'

Something had completely snapped inside me. It made me blind and deaf, and even numb to Stan struggling to keep my scrambling under restraint. Yet even as Kenny watched my violent state, hurting my two old friends with madness, screaming with anger, fear and pain, he didn't move an inch. He didn't even blink or flinch at Stan's shouting for assistance. He simply watched me with wide-open eyes, paralysed.

As the truth sank in and reality wrapped its arms around his heart, the world had slowly begun to crumble down around him.

'Kyle… No—' his lips were frozen, the whisper of a voice coming from deep inside him. 'It can't be…'

'Huh?' Stan shouted angrily at Kenny's perplexed murmuring.

'_Him_?'

'Kenny! Help me stop Kyle! He's going to fucking _end_ him!'

Kenny took his lost eyes off me to glance at Stan, but then returned his eyes back to me. He took my sobbing and screaming deep in, watching me squirm in Stan's hold, trying to hurt Eric, trying to hurt him with everything that was left in me.

A new glint began to glimmer in his icy-blue eyes.

'Let him.'

Stan froze at Kenny's cold words, forgetting my screaming state locked in his arms.

'What?'

'Let Kyle fucking end him, because if _he_ doesn't, _I_ will.'

'You're fucking insane—'

I sent my elbow into Stan's jaw, finally freeing myself to attack Eric again.

'Shit!'

I ripped his sheets away and scratched and punched the boy who wouldn't wake. But it was only a few seconds more until I was grabbed by the back again, this time, being dragged by Stan completely away from Eric and out of the room.

The door slammed close in front of me, the tearing sound shooting through my boiled body instantly making me still. Sudden silence froze the air. There was no more struggling, no more screaming, only tears running down my cheeks.

'Come on—'

Now that my body was still, I was released and pulled along by the shoulders, away from the door to Eric and through the hollow hallway. My mind was white and completely blank, still and unresponsive like my body. My legs were numb lumps underneath me taking one heavy and unsteady step after the next. I couldn't hear anything, I couldn't see anything and I couldn't feel anything. Nothing reached me.

'Dude, what's wrong?' Stan asked softly once the hospital doors closed on us, resting his hand gently on my back. But still his voice didn't reach me. 'Kenny, what's wrong with him?'

'…Let's just get out of here.' The blond muttered distastefully, giving the hospital one last hateful glance before taking me out of Stan's hold to lead me to the truck. I stared out the window as we pulled out of the hospital car park, all my muscles stripped of its energy, lips, eyes, arms lifelessly hanging and tears silently streaming.

Stan was the first to jump out of the truck. There was a bust of emotion inside him, burning energetically, fuelled by Kenny and my actions, words and my tears.

'Okay, now _seriously_, you guys _need_ to tell me what's wrong.' He cried frustratingly as I got out of the truck after Kenny. Both Kenny and I stayed silent at Stan's desperate words: me still lifeless, and Kenny stroking my hand with his thumb as he looked into my hanging face.

'Seriously dudes. I- I'm totally lost here. And it's killing me right now, so please!' Weakly, my eyes travelled up to meet Stan's pleading ones. 'Please…'

'Okay…'

The word was a subtle whisper, like a small bell ringing a mile away.

'Huh?'

'Okay.' I repeated, the same quiet voice, but it travelled more clearly in the silent air.

'Kyle?' A small light shone in Kenny's eyes as he looked deeply into me, surprise and disbelief tinting his voice and gaze. 'Kyle, are you sure? Do you want to tell him?'

I looked at Kenny's hand stroking my own. It was warm, and gentle, I knew that as a fact, but still couldn't make it out on my skin. But slowly, more than before, I thought I was regaining myself back.

I nodded.

I don't know how the choice came so easily. While it took me so long to tell Kenny, I had suddenly decided to tell my former best friend everything in a second. It was like it wasn't such a great deal anymore, like I had lost everything, and there was nothing more that I could lose.

Then what was everything _for_ until now? Why did I keep everything secret if I was so easily going to reveal it? What was all the suffering it took to tell Kenny? Why didn't it matter anymore?

The answer was a big dark black. Nothing. It was sad, but I just couldn't care.

'Wait—' I called as the other two began to walk towards the apartment. 'I need to go somewhere first.'

We walked; the other two matched their eager feet to my wobbly and ponderous gait until I finally reached his house. They waited on the footpath as I slowly made my way up, alone.

I knocked on the door, but came no answer. Blankly, I turned the door handle, and I twitched in confusion to find that it was open.

'Excuse me…' I called, slipping into the house. 'Liane?'

'Oh, hello Kyle,' Eric's mother called from the kitchen with a shaky voice. 'I was just making some yummy dim-dims for Eric. Sugar coated chocolate pie. He liked it a lot. They were his favourite. Although he didn't eat much of them recently. He didn't eat much at all… But I'm sure he will be very happy if I visit him with these. Yes—'

Rudely enough, I ignored her. But I didn't think she would mind since she was talking to herself more than me. There was no sympathy inside me to spare for the lonely woman, if there were any, it would have been the sympathy for the ignorance for her own son. But now, every time I think of her, it breaks my heart. She had suffered a lot, I wish for her happiness. Without another word though, I climbed up the stairs and opened the first bedroom door to the left.

The smell. The smell of cum, and blood: of rape and death. It swept through me like a sudden charge of a ghost, and just as quickly, disappeared. I took a breath, and walked in. The air seemed heavy, and dense, like each step I took was a step through water.

My hand grabbed the desk draw and flung it open to tear through layers of scrap paper and random pens. Then I shot my hand to the bedside table, threw the first draw out and found nothing but old books, and then quickly turned to the second draw— and that was where I found it.

It was all scrunched up, like someone had had it in their firm grip for quite some time, but kept it safe nonetheless. Well, it had been in his possession for over a year. The only other thing in the drawer was a bottle of lube, but I didn't think much of it. So what if he had jacked off to a photo of me? He couldn't have possibly degrade me anymore than he had already done. To the point that I was no longer human.

I stuffed the photo into my pocket and without another word to Liane, left the house with a loud slam of the front door. In the bottom of my heart I knew. I knew that I would never return to that place ever again.

'What was that all about? Apologise to Cartman's mom for what had happened?' Stan asked as I approached them, taking my steps away from the house.

'No… Let's go—'

As the other two began to walk ahead, I gave the Cartman's residence one last glance. Such a clear blue sky that lit the house, while such darkness seemed to drown the house in its arms.

I wanted to go somewhere quiet and green, somewhere with no human shadow except for us. Only Kyle, Kenny and Stan. And that somewhere was Stark's Pond.

The first time we were there, it was just Stan and me still in the first year of high school. We talked about the good old days, and the blond that was missing in our lives.

The second was just Kenny and me, after we thought to have reached our goal destination, I had accepted my love for him

And now it was all three of us, finally, together.

'Wow— I haven't come here for ages!' Stan softly chuckled, looking at the calm surface of the water. He smiled with a sense of happy and sad nostalgia, like he had the last time we were here.

I went past him admiring the scenery and placed myself on one of the large boulders on the bank of the water. Kenny hopped onto the spot next to me, while Stan crouched down on the bank, looking into his own reflection.

'But we came here for a reason,' Stan murmured. A sudden sense of distaste and bitter strength swept across his face as he looked at himself in the water.

'Are you sure you want to know?' I asked; it was almost a challenge that came from pity and doubt.

'I don't even know what I'm about to know,' he laughed softly with disbelief.

'Trust me Stan. What I'm about to say might change your life. And not for the better.'

His back twitched at my words, but then he looked up to meet my gaze, eyes waiting, strong and determined to hear my words.

'Tell me.'

I couldn't escape those eyes of my former best friend, no matter how wrong and clueless I knew he was. The only thing I could do now, no matter how difficult, was to tell him everything. I've done it before, for the person I loved. I could do it again.

A soft, cool breeze flowed by as I took in a small breath. It was a quick knock on the door to my memories, before I entered in.

Leafy blond hair: Butters, the soft boy who couldn't even squeak a cry for his suffering, couldn't make a sound as he was strangled, and couldn't say a word as he watched me replace him.

The stolen money, which was merely the first step forward.

The threats. The beatings. The hands. And then the kiss.

The touching. The breaking. The tearing me apart.

And then Kenny: the undesired return that saved my life.

The aimless walks at night to escape the nightmares.

The isolation: distancing myself from all my friends.

The rape. The killings. The cuts and the disorder.

The scars, the tattoo, and the retired counsellor.

And then the fight between me and the blond over the awful truth that couldn't be told.

And then the conversation that came with an awful price, but ended up to my opening up.

The revealing of my scars. And then the final secret that lasted until today. The name.

But there were a few things that I didn't tell my former best friend. There were things that he didn't need to know. Things that could only exist between Kenny and me: between what we had created over such a long time.

'It took me so long to reveal all that to Kenny. But in the end, I had told him everything.'

'Except for one thing…' Kenny murmured, and I nodded acceptingly.

'I never told him who was doing it.' I confirmed Kenny's words. 'So Kenny never found out until today… It is brutal, isn't it? While he was trying everything he could to keep me safe, I kept that one fundamental secret of who was hurting me. I was the one that allowed it to continue, until today…'

'Kyle, don't say that… You're the victim,' Kenny tried, but all I could do was give him a half-hearted smile in response. I couldn't accept his words. Not completely. Because I knew the truth. And the truth was that I was the cause, as much as it was of Eric. I could have stopped it any time I wanted to, but I had let it continue. I was tarred with the same sin. And I was reminded of that fact with every time I looked at Eric's marks on me.

'There are bruises and scars all over my body now…'

'But some have began to disappear already,' Kenny added to my words with heat, 'so maybe one day…'

I looked down, and saw Stan completely frozen, staring with blank eyes at the surface of the calm water. With my heart weighing me down with guilt, I slid off the boulder and took the forgotten photograph out of my pocket. With the photo in hand I stood behind Stan's still back. There was still one thing I hadn't told him.

'I never told you why I stopped talking to you. I never told you many things… I was gay since we were thirteen, and was gay for you, until— everything. My feelings for you made me feel even worse since I liked you and Wendy, together. But, Wendy didn't like us. She thought that I would steal you away from her because we were so close. Maybe she couldn't see your true feelings for her.'

A sudden sense of sorrow swept through my heart. I gave Kenny a quick glance and then back to Stan. It was such a sad thought. To think that two happy people who love each other not being able to truly understand each other's feelings. The one thing that I was able to do, in the deep pits of darkness.

'Once I told her my feelings for you, and that I wanted to get rid of them, she called me out in the middle of the night, made two guys bash me up, and stripped me naked. They drew insults on my back and took pictures as blackmail for me to stay away from you. That's why, Stan—' I let the photo fall from my fingers and sway down until it landed beside him. 'That's why I stopped talking to you. But in the end, maybe it was just an excuse to walk away from you guys, because it hurt to lie and pretend around you. I thought that— I might as well tell you everything. Since I always hid everything from you.'

Slowly, he tilted his head to look at the photograph on the ground and took it up, staring at it with shaking hands. Whatever he did now was his choice and his freedom.

Without another word, I turned and walked away, hearing Kenny jog up to me and rest his arm on my shoulder reassuringly.

'You know, I always thought that Stan loved you, more than he could have ever loved Wendy.' Kenny said as we walked through the green path that led away from the pond. 'That was one reason why I left South Park three years ago, because I thought that you two loved each other, and would eventually end up together. Maybe Wendy always sensed that too, and denied it.'

I listened and thought of Kenny's words intently, but it didn't sway me as much, or at all. If anything: sadness.

'…It doesn't matter anymore.'

I held Kenny's hand that was hanging from my shoulder and let the warmth sink into me. It felt like it was the only thing that could keep me from collapsing at that moment.

But even so, with each step I took, I could hear small cracking in my head. _Crack, creak, crack…_ It was the sound of the ground underneath my feet, cracking like glass and falling apart.

.

The door that I knocked on and opened, the door that led to my memories, didn't shut after I opened it that day. Or maybe it was that Eric had turned into a ghost to haunt me, leaving his unconscious body at night to come and keep me company.

Eric was gone: my reality was no longer a nightmare. But now day and night, reality and nightmares, his absence and his presence were intermixing together and I was beginning to lose myself into the dark gap in between them.

Maybe, until then it was my insanity that kept me on my two feet. And now that I was forced to see myself as who I was, to face the sudden horror-less reality like a soldier returning from war, I had lost my only means of standing, and was beginning to collapse from the down up.

It was meant to all come to an end that day, I was meant to be reborn. But the Devil wouldn't let go of me. Not that easily.

* * *

**A.N- As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. You are such lovely people and deserve this distressing (yet hopeful I hope) fic to come to an end. Just two more guys. **


	21. Chapter 21

'_Until the morning comes, I'm the only justice._

_The Blue Days are the only things that seem to continue._

_But what are you afraid of at this stage?_

_Being alone shouldn't be a matter to you now.'_

–_Plenty, 'Aoki Hibi'_

Step 40: Surrender

_Chapter Twenty-One: Blue Rebirth_

'We should go away.'

'Huh?'

I looked at him with a blank gaze to find myself almost mesmerised by the vibrant colour of his eyes.

'Let's get away from South Park for a while and go for a holiday, you know, to let you relax and stuff. Like a rehab.'

'Kenny, I don't need a rehab. I'm fine—'

'No you're not!' He cried, making me stop my spoon of cereal in mid-air. The tension in his body slowly relaxed, but in a heavy, sad way. 'Kyle, you're not fine. You've barely left the house, eaten, slept, said a single word for the past month. You didn't blink when you heard that Stan dumped Wendy. And you didn't even…' he breathed one shaky breath. 'You didn't even react when you heard that Cartman woke up…'

I let the spoon sink back into the milk in the bowl and stared at the white ripples hit against the small flakes of cereal.

'…Well, I guess he's still as good as being in a coma…' Kenny sighed.

When you drop something into milk, the liquid is meant to splash in a beautiful shape of a rich white crown. But I couldn't see it as I kept my eyes on the ripples around the spoon.

'Kenny, you're just frustrated because we hadn't had sex for so long.'

'No! Well, yes… But that's insignificant compared to the worry I have for your present state! I mean, Kyle—' he let his head fall into his palms with exhaustion, while I continued to stare at my breakfast bowl. 'Kyle, it's all meant to be over. You have less than two months until you leave South Park, until you leave _me_ but— you're only getting worse. You stay in bed for most the day but can't even sleep for a second at night without screaming awake… I— I can't leave you like this. I need you to… It's time to come back to life Kyle. I need you to.'

I played with the spoon resting against the rim of the bowl, letting the metal rise, and fall, rise and fall, making an eerie clanging noise with each time.

'…My family has a vacation house in Montauk, by the beach. They go there every year after they go to Canada but it's empty most the time. You can go there if you want…'

'No!' Kenny laughed disbelievingly, taking my fiddling hand in his own and squeezing it. '_We_ can go there.'

I looked into his eyes as if they were a poster. A poster of a bright summer's sky and beach, with dolphins dancing in the distant sea if you want. I admired its beauty, but I couldn't feel anything. I wasn't numb, like I used to make myself. It was more like I had completely lost something very important inside.

I let him do as he wished. Drive for days in a car to stay in a family beach house alone? Fine. If only it made him happy. I didn't feel, but I could still register the desire in me to have Kenny happy.

But when Stan jumped in the back seat of Kenny's truck a week later, I was a little bewildered.

'Stan?'

'Yup.' Kenny sighed deeply, turning the engine on and muttering some more. 'And to think that I was going to have a nice holiday alone with Kyle…'

'Eh— Don't worry Kens. I won't interfere with your romantic whatever, I'm just here for the ride—'

'It's going to take a few days to reach New York Stan, it won't be fun…'

'I know—' Stan leaned forward, resting his arms on my seat as he looked into my face. 'Just— the way Kenny's been talking about you dude, especially about the bathroom— I can't simply stay put and quietly watch you leave. I'm worried, Kyle.'

I tilted my head and gazed at Kenny's displeased pout. He had been telling me countless times how worried he was for my worsening condition, but I never comprehended it. It was a sad fact that it took Stan's words to make me realise that.

'I hope it'll be fun—'

'It _will_ be!' Stan and Kenny called at the same time, one merrily and one with hard determination. The brunet patted my curls before he fell back into his seat.

Resting my forehead on the truck's window glass, I gently closed my eyes so that I didn't have to go to sleep in the dark, all alone, later. When I slept in the light at least, the dreams didn't tear through me.

We made it to Missouri by night and took a room with two singles.

'Dude, I'll take another room you know?' Stan said as we entered our room, but then realisation hit him and he instantly shut his mouth. Yes. Kenny had told him.

'I can fit with Kenny,' I said just in case. And I _did_ fit with Kenny, if we clung to each other close and tight. But that wasn't needed for the most of the night.

Listening to the two calm sets of sleeping breaths in the room, I laid awake in Kenny's hold, and then slowly, sild my body out of the bed. I could have tried to go asleep even though I slept for most of the day, but I didn't want to do that. Not in a motel anyway. So like most other nights in Kenny's apartment, I moved to the bathroom, locked the door, and planted myself on the icy tiles. Trapped in the small, dark room, I rocked myself quietly and softly without a second of sleep until the morning came.

'Kyle,' I stopped my rocking at the sound on the door, 'Kyle, are you in there? It's morning now.'

Slightly shaking, I moved to the door and opened it, the blinding morning light suddenly attacking my eyes. He took me by the hand and led me to the bed, placing us next to each other on the side of the mattress.

'So, it _is_ true—' Stan said, sitting on the bed opposite us, 'You _don't_ sleep at night.'

'I do sometimes but— not much anymore.' I admitted. 'But I sleep in the day so it's okay.'

'I'm not sure about that dude, with university around the corner.'

Kenny wrapped his arm tightly around my shoulder at Stan's words, as if trying to confirm them to me. But my brain already knew that fact. I was just too tired and scared to do anything with it.

With two more days scheduled in for driving, we left before nine o'clock. Stan offered to drive once the Jazz and classical music became too much, but was declined with each time. I slept for most the journey again so I missed out on most of the argument but when I woke up it was to _the_ _Cure_, so I guessed Stan got it his way.

'Hey, listen to this,' Stan called, cleaning the lens of his camera, how fitting for _Pictures of You_. 'Ever since my dad taped heaps of stuff on his movie camera without the battery, he's detested any digital cameras. So my mom uses digital cameras but he forces me to use fucking film.'

'Hmm, that's intense Stan. And sorry for my lack of sympathy, but you know, I can't really afford a camera to empathise with you.' Kenny answered sarcastically.

Stan cackled at Kenny's words. 'Yeah, that's why I'm here!' he cheered, hitting the shutter to emphasise his point.

I fell asleep again somewhere in the midst of the next conversation, not waking up this time until the music had changed back to Billie Holiday and the sky had dyed into a gentle pink.

That night at the motel was the same too: I simply sat on the tiled floor, leaning against the door. But there was one difference. After Stan fell asleep, Kenny snuck out of bed and leaned on the other side of the bathroom door, listening to me subtly rock behind him. He did that sometimes, if not a lot, staying with me through my sleepless nights. To be honest, that was the time when it hurt the most, and when the warmth of his kindness seemed so brutal.

'Kenny?' I murmured out to the boy behind the door.

'Hmm?' He sounded half in his sleep, but struggled to stay awake for my words.

'When we get to Montauk, I will try to sleep at night. With you. I promise.'

'…Okay.'

His answer was simple and quiet, and couldn't have been more perfect.

The thought was scary, but I could hardly wait for it.

Most people, whether it was drugs, alcohol, sex, anything, became addicted to happiness, false in most cases. And it was agonising, but crucial for them to let that addiction go.

Me? I was addicted to sadness and pain, but it wasn't false, it couldn't have been more real. I feared the withdrawal I would face if I finally stood up to try and get myself back, but I couldn't stay the way I was. For Kenny, _and_ myself.

Kenny was right, it was time I came back to life. After countless times of being killed by Eric, I had to come back to life. Over the years that he had me in his hands, Eric was able to mould me into something that was reliant, even craving for his presence. He had killed me too many times, that the only place that assured my life and my existence was in his hold. And now, without him, I was dead. On my birthday, he had killed me that one more and one last time, and it had finished me off. What was left now of me, was a rotting corpse.

But maybe, just maybe…

If I could be reborn in Kenny's arms…

.

I didn't close my eyes the next day in the car; I didn't let sleep overcome me. I had chosen and promised to Kenny the previous night that I wouldn't let the night drown me anymore. That, like a normal person, I will close my eyes when it was dark, next to the person I loved, and let sleep overcome me then.

'We're here.'

The truck grunted to a stop in the middle of what people might think as nowhere. The house was alone, but proudly standing on the hill looking onto the beach as if it was forgotten by the rest of the world. But it was standing tall.

'Kyle, seriously? We get this to our selves?'

'Yeah.' I murmured, winning a whistle from Kenny as I opened the front door.

'Jesus Christ, and there's like, no one around here. And it's so huge—'

'Well, normally we come here with relatives. That's why it's so big.'

The lock opened, and the door slowly creaked open with an almost daunting eerie sound. Stan called out "cheese!" as we entered the house, taking an introductory photo to our holiday in Montauk.

Kenny cooked dinner, and Stan saw for the first time with his eyes that I couldn't taste. He was shocked, but not as shocked as he was in the middle of the night.

A few hours later, my eyelids were beginning to droop, and I knew that it was time for me to fulfil my promise. It would be a lie if I said I wasn't scared.

'I'm tired,' I murmured to Kenny. It had been nearly thirty hours since I last slept, and fatigue was finally becoming unbearable. The blond looked at me with strong, accepting eyes and nodded softly. 'Should we give Stan a head's up?'

I looked at the bedroom door, imagining Stan on the other side. And then I looked at my hands, the tip of each finger was wrapped neatly with a bandaid, an idea Kenny got after dinner. He did them so gently and kindly, and just that gave me a little courage.

'No… he will be okay. Besides, nothing might happen—' I was able to put a smile on Kenny's lips with my attempted optimism.

He leaned in over the small gap in between us and pressed his lips on mine. My body jumped, but I was able to respond gently. Then his fingers crawled to my cheek, and began stroking down my jaw and down my neck, to continue travelling until he slid his finger down my hipbone.

'No—' I muttered, heart silently about to explode in my chest. I slid out of the thin sheets until I felt my feet on the ground and got up, my whole body now suddenly shaking.

'Kyle— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that!' he whispered gently, leaning up from the bed. My feet were moving in circles, hand gripping my shaking arms. The habitual urge to run to the bathroom and lock myself inside attacked every single inch of me, like always. 'Kyle, I promise I won't do that again, now please come back—'

I looked at him, my feet and my shaking instantly stopping as I did. I stared at the empty spot next to him, the apology and guilt in his blue eyes and his hand extending out for me. Slowly, I reached out to the hand and followed it back into bed.

'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, I know…'

I nodded into his chest, heart still thumping yet slowly calming down inside. I could feel Kenny's just the same in his chest, beating against mine.

We cuddled in the centre of the large cold bed, definitely too big for the two of us as we held onto each other without an inch of a gap in between us.

'Good night.' Kenny whispered into my ear, hand stroking my hair.

'Sweet dreams…' I murmured back, letting the warmth of Kenny's hands sink into my back.

Almost a second later, I was in darkness. Kenny was nowhere to be found, and I was floating alone in the middle of the starless universe. But then suddenly, I felt a sting in my back, and I realised that I was now kneeling naked in the bedroom of the Montauk house, hands tied to the pole of the bed. But still there was no one.

Before I could call Kenny's name, I felt something slide up my foot. I swang my head down to find thick vines growing out of the floor and crawling up my body from my leg. As I looked at the thick green spreading up me, I struggled and screamed to get it off. My mind knew that they weren't just vines. They were human hands and mouths.

They stuck to my skin and sucked at my scars, tightly wrapping around my limbs so that I couldn't move, and grasping my cock to wreck my mind. Then I felt my scream gaggle with blood in the pits of my throat as I felt thick vines rip through the scars of my back, tearing through into me to violate my insides. The vines on my legs tightened and pulled, splitting them apart until my thighs finally ripped off from my body, making it easier to enter me. I could feel the vines rip through my hole and tear through me mercilessly, deeper and deeper. But nothing compared to the horrifying and disgusting, painful feeling as when the vines reached the end and bloomed into a beautifully venomous flower inside me.

'Kyle!' Kenny shouted, pinning my violent limbs to the mattress of the bed. 'Kyle! Wake up!' And he slapped me gently, letting go of one of my wrists, but that was when I got the chance to push him off of me.

I was screaming again, and I jumped off the bed, throwing the bedside table upside down, causing the lamp to shatter on the floor. My foot stepped on the broken glass, but I didn't care, I continued to scream and tear at anything that came inside my personal space.

'Kyle!' Kenny yelled again, and I scratched and hit at him as he tried to stop me from tearing everything, and myself, apart. 'Oh, God, I'm sorry Kyle…' He begged, dragging me to the near door and opening it, only to push me inside to lock me in there.

I tore at the door with my bandaged fingers, still screaming at the top of my lungs. We had removed everything from the bathroom, like at Kenny's house, that I had the potential to break or harm anything with. So I only had the door to tear at.

I don't know how long it was until I finally scraped all my energy out and fell to the floor of the bathroom. But the next time I opened my eyes, it was when Kenny finally opened the door for me, letting the morning light in to cast on me.

'Good morning,' I murmured softly to the blond, casually, but sadly. Kenny's eyes were filled with remorse and sorrow, and I could see, hatred for his own powerless self. So instead of his frozen lips, I tried to smile for him from the floor.

Still unable to smile back, Kenny let me up onto my feet and wrapped my arm around his shoulder to take my exhausted body to the bed were Stan was sleeping on the sheets. I winced secretly as the cut in my foot shot pains through my body.

'I thought you were being attacked or something…' Stan muttered at the breakfast table, face pale with bags under his eyes. 'I mean, I suddenly heard this scream so I ran to your room, and found Kenny trying to keep you locked in the bathroom. I thought he went fucking nuts.'

'Yeah,' I admitted shamefully. 'It started since Eric went into a coma. But it didn't happen so much when I went to sleep in the light so I began sleeping during the day instead and stayed up at night. I'm sorry. I might have ruined the holiday for you. Maybe I should have warned—'

'No, that's fine but— yeah. I guess I wished that you told me a little more…'

But Kenny wasn't as gentle as I was to the brunet.

'You _do_ know that this is going to continue for almost every night, right?' he said, munching on a piece of toast. 'This is not just a normal holiday.'

We both nodded, both Stan _and_ me remorsefully. It made Kenny's frustration drop into guilt and squeeze my hand reassuringly.

'We will make through this. You promised me that you'll try, now I'll promise that you will get better. I promise.'

I looked at his hand on top of mine, the fumes of the coffee dancing around our fingers like morning fog, and I turned my hand around to entwine our fingers.

'Okay.'

But that night wasn't so different either. I was tearing at everything after the nightmare as if to destroy the world. Kenny locked me in the empty bathroom, and I clawed at the door with bandaged nails until I finally collapsed to sleep. But it wasn't just the nights. Since the first night I had began to shake throughout the day, so much so, that I couldn't let go of myself.

I tucked myself up into a little ball and sat on the soft beach, listening to the cries of the waves.

'It's probably just a withdrawal response or something,' I tried to soothe Kenny, who was getting more and more stressed about my appearing responses. 'Don't worry about it…'

'How can I—' Kenny held his mouth, trying to calm himself down. 'Kyle, I don't want to keep on locking you in the bathroom anymore.'

'I know. But its not like you have a choice—'

'I do— I always have a choice. And I don't want to anymore and I won't— there must be another way.'

You couldn't tell when the sea ended, and where the sky began. The blue horizon melted the cloudless sky and sea together, reflecting each other into one clear canvas of blue. It was only the beach that was white. A dusty, sandy white— like my mind: a dry desert absent of a single drop of water, with only an illusion of a beautiful ocean in the distance, a dream, a desire— Kenny.

Just as the night before, I woke up screaming and violently tearing my own limbs apart. But just as Kenny promised, he didn't lock me in the bathroom, no matter how much I would have wished for that.

'Kyle, Kyle come on—' he pinned my thrashing limbs to the bed underneath him. My screams got worse and I struggled against him, attacking him as if he was the source of all my nightmares and pain. I hit him and clawed at him, but he wouldn't let go. Swollen and wounded, he didn't let go until I finally used up all my energy and fell unconscious underneath him.

'Kenny?' I murmured in confusion, waking from my short black out.

'Oh good… you're back—' he smiled weakly, and kissed me on the forehead before collapsing next to me with a soft chuckle. 'Man, I should have done this sooner…'

But I couldn't listen to him for long. Within a few seconds his voice turned into soft clouds in my mind and wrapped me into a gentle, deep, exhausted sleep.

Yet instant guilt overcame me when I woke up.

'What's wrong?' I asked, eyes widening the moment I opened the door to the dining room. Kenny was sitting on the kitchen chair, arm extended out on the table as an icepack rested on his wrist.

'Oh, nothing— just sprained my wrist a little.'

But when I looked carefully it wasn't just his wrist. There were small, but swollen scratches all over his face, as well as a light bruise next to his left eye. Pain began to sink into my chest as my lungs squeezed together in shock.

'Who did this?' I whispered with a shaky voice, brushing my finger along the bruise on his cheekbone.

'No one, I—'

'You did.' I swang my head around to face Stan, standing behind me with a blank face. 'Don't you remember?'

My heart rate began to fasten at those words.

'Fucking idiot…' Kenny muttered, sighing into his hand.

I slowly turned my head back to see the wounds on Kenny's face and the pain subtly began to tear the tissues of my heart one by one.

'No—' I murmured, grasping my red curls, desperate to get rid of the pain that was overcoming my head. 'No! I couldn't have. NO! …why? Why! I don't, I don't—'

'No, Kyle! It's okay!' Kenny panicked, trying to stretch a reassuring smile on his face as he reached out for my shoulders. 'It's okay, Kyle—'

'_NO_ it's _NOT_!' I yelled jolting away from his touch. 'I don't deserve this… and you don't deserve this!' I indicated his wounds. 'I don't deserved to have you being so kind to me and helping me when all I'm doing is hurting you. It's true, it's true. It was a punishment. To punish me because I was so worthless, useless, ferocious— I don't deserve your kindness. I don't. I don't. I don't! Just _STAY AWAY FROM ME!_'

I screamed and dashed out of the kitchen, bolting for our en suite bathroom. I heard his footsteps rush after me and as I did, and in my mind I was running for my life. The second I reached the bathroom I slammed the door shut and pulled on the door handle desperately. _Why didn't the fucking bathroom have a fucking lock?_

There was a sudden tug on the door from the other side and I yelped, but was able to hang onto the handle.

'Kyle!' He called from the other side, 'Kyle, come on! Open up!'

'No! Please! Just, please go away!' I sobbed. 'Just, please, please, please, please, please go away… I can't, I can't, I don't want to! Not now, not right now, please! It hurts! Don't punish me now, I'm sorry, just go away I don't want to… I will do anything you want later, just not now—'

There was a fierce tug on the door and I screamed, the power from the other side clearly exceeding my own. I sobbed and cried in fear as I pulled with my broken hand, my last struggle, until the door finally flung out of my grip and opened wide.

'No! No, no, no, no, no, no, No, NO!'

He barged in, shutting the door fiercely behind him before he yanked my wrists into his grip. I choked on my panicked breaths as my back hit the cold tiles, my whole body pinned onto the wall.

'No, please, Stop! I don't want to… not now. Please let go! Eric! Stop!'

'Kyle! It's me!'

'Let go! Let go!'

'Kyle!'

I screeched, clawing at the hands pinning my wrists to the wall behind me and biting the air.

'Go away! I'll kill you! I'll fucking KILL YOU! I swear! This time I _will_! I'll finish you off! For good! So please, don't kill me— I don't! I— I?'

My words were suddenly silenced with warmth sealing my lips and spreading into my mouth. But I couldn't register it. I screamed and struggled heavier as if I really was about shatter into a million pieces.

'Kyle, please, look at me! It's me!' he said, pressing his lips against my cheek and neck as he did. 'Can't you feel me?'

All I could feel was burn. All I could feel was my skin slowly rot from the area that was touched.

'No! No, no, no—'

But my screams of insanity slowly drowned under a sudden ray of light that leaked into me. The fierce grips that were around my wrists had slid down onto my hands, and had entwined our fingers together.

'Kyle, it's me…'

Such a gentle and warm connection, such overflowing kindness... _He_ never touched me liked this. My panic froze on the tip of my tongue, in the middle of a heartbeat, in that sudden moment of light.

'Kyle? Kyle… look at me,' the gentle connection drew my hands up, making my frozen face stare into two icy-blue eyes. It was as if I was suddenly standing in the middle of an iced, winter land, plain white until the horizon, but with the bright sun shining on top of me. 'Kyle, call my name…'

A single word whispered out of my shaking lips, more like a breath than a voice.

'Huh?' The icy-blue orbs protested to hear the word again and still staring into the shining ice, unable to blink or even move, my mouth opened again.

'Kenny…'

The eyes widened in front of me, and he let our hands flow back down beside us, a natural reaction as his everything was focused on me, and us.

'Kenny,' I stated again, just as he began to lean in to seal my lips.

'Keep on saying it,' he whispered, one hand sliding away from mine to climb up my top, while the other stayed secured inside my own.

'Kenny—' I gasped every time my vision began to blur into horrifying darkness. Each call let light return to my sight, keeping me awake, in a safe reality.

'Kenny—' I breathed as his tongue slid across my chest, lowering so that lips caressed my ribs.

'Kenny—' my voice shook as my knees collapsed onto the tiled floor, heat flowing to the tip of my fingers as my clothes slid away from my skin, falling lifelessly onto the floor.

'Kenny—' the name choked in my throat as I felt him touch deep inside me.

'Kenny—' I prayed as we became one.

We were collapsed on the ground, me, sitting naked on his lap, legs tied secured around his back. Our breaths burnt against each other and even more so as I murmured his name over and over again into his shoulder. His right hand was around my hip, securing himself still inside me, as my left hand grasped onto the chest of his open shirt for dear life. But my right hand was relaxed, safe, right inside the hold of Kenny's left one placed beside us on the floor.

'Kyle…'

'Kenny—'

'Kyle,'

'Kenny…'

'Kyle, I'm right here…'

'I know—' Strength flowed into my relaxed hand, entwining Kenny and my fingers together tightly with a reassuring response in return. 'You always are…'

You were there when I was burning: you burnt with me. You were there when I died: you died with me. You were there when I was reborn: you were reborn with me.

You were always right there…

.

I watched the gentle silver waves flow in and out infinitely, the sound so calm and relaxing, with a sad yet beautiful mixture of life and death whispering in its cry.

'_So what now?' _The voice called.

I was sitting on the swing placed in the middle of the secluded grey beach under the grey sky, not a person in sight, the sand and ocean of Montauk forgotten from the world. Only me swaying on the swing, and the sea moving against the wind was what existed.

'What do you mean?'

He was now in front of me, completely naked. His pale white body was bruised from head to toe. Bite marks stained his skin, but what stood out most, in that scenery of washed out colour of sand, water and clouds, was the red. Not the red of his curls swaying against the air, but the red running down his extended wrists presented to me.

'_My whole body hurts. And the blood won't stop—'_ the boy murmured a sob. Tears fell onto the oozing blood and trailed down his white skin. _'Are you just going to sit there? Are you just going to sit there and ignore me? Forget about me? Are you just going to sit there and pretend that these pains don't exist? These wounds? These scars?'_

I stared into his angry eyes, emeralds glowing in hatred and blame as they stared into me.

'What wounds?' I whispered, my voice as toneless as the colour of the scenery.

'_These wounds!'_ he cried a scream, emphasising his sliced wrists, blood now running down uncontrollably.

Slowly, I reached out from the swing, standing in the sand with my two bare feet and took the bloodied wrists in my hand.

'I don't see any wounds…'

'_What?'_

He looked down onto his wrists resting on my hands, the skin clean and white, with merely lines crossed against the wrist, countless scars that were disappearing into the skin. But there was no blood. I stroked my palm over the healed skin, intently, over and over again.

'I thought that they would always be bleeding, so the illusion always stayed with me but—' The boy looked at me with water flowing in his emerald eyes. 'But the blood had long since stopped. The wounds were healed. I just needed to notice that…'

'_But the wounds would never heal Kahl… you know that.'_

I was in the swing again, looking up into his smoky eyes.

'I know… But I can pretend. The wounds are healed and the scars will eventually disappear. Although they might open to bleed easily now and then, I have to pretend that they aren't now. I have to pretend that it doesn't exist until finally, eventually, I forget the hurt myself.'

'_So what?'_ he said, his voice like the sea breeze flowing past us._ 'Are you just going to forget your love for me as well?'_

'Love?' I stared at him with round eyes. Now we were walking along the beach, our hands connected as we made our steps in the sand. 'My love for you?'

I felt his pulse in my hand, beating in unison with my own heartbeat, and my widened eyes relaxed as I understood the meaning.

'Oh. Yeah. My love. My love for you.'

'_Yes. You can't pretend that _that_ never existed.'_

The words of despair entered me with such light and clarity, like the dim-lit sun behind heavy clouds.

'No, I can't. It's the whole reason why this ever happened…' I admitted drawing my eyes from our connected hands to his smoky eyes.

'_You can never kill me Kyle. No matter how much you want to, and wanted to until now. You could have never killed me. Because you love me too much.'_

The truth was like a blade that tore straight through the heart, but it didn't cause pain, just sadness leaking out of the gashed wound.

'I will probably always live with you under my skin, even if that causes the scars to open up…' I glanced weakly at the scars on my arm, 'But that doesn't matter.'

His smoky eyes widened at my sudden unsuspected words. Our feet stopped, in the sand, the waves sounding in the distance.

'That doesn't matter because I have something much more important—' A smile spread across my lips. The first smile that came from the bottom of my heart, and I looked up with clear eyes. 'Isn't that right, Kenny?'

He gazed into me, with blue eyes narrowed in love, acceptance and care. His habitual smile was something like I had never seen before, yet something that I had been seeing everyday. We stood there like that, alone with our hands connected as one, standing in between the sand, the sea and the sky, becoming one. After always living with such a crack in between us, we had become one. Truly, and completely, one of the heart.

My eyes opened.

I woke up with a deep breath of realisation leaking out from between my lips. Gently, I tilted my head to find Kenny wrapped in the sheets next to me breathing in the slow rhythm of sleep. I wondered how long I was asleep for. It felt like I had been in one long, long dream.

'Good morning.' I whispered, and leaned down to press my lips against Kenny's still cheek, and drew my face out to find his icy-blue eyes staring into mine.

'You're awake.' He smiled softly.

'I am.' I nodded. 'How long was I asleep for?'

He leaned his sleepy body to the side and checked the time, groaning softly as he did.

'Nineteen hours…' his answer shot my eyes wide. 'You slept during the day, but you didn't wake up at night to start savaging the place so I guessed it was okay to keep you that way.'

He gave me a wide, gentle smile.

'Congratulations, Kyle. Good morning. You slept through the night without a single nightmare.'

I looked at his hand that reached out to my cheek and placed my hand on top.

'Yeah. I did… Thank you. Thank you Kenny.'

I chuckled softly into his touch, and received a soft sound in response.

'Come on,' the blond said, leaning up from the sheets, 'let's go see the sunrise.'

There was a dark wine colour in the horizon tinting the sea. A long line of footsteps led form the house to the spot we had chose to sit and wait for the sun to rise. The infinite sound of the gentle waves drawing in and out on the beach, somehow, made me wonder if that was the sound babies hear inside their mother's womb as they wait for their birth.

'Remember how you said you wanted to go to the sea? You know, when we went for a drive and I took you to Grand Lake?'

'You still remember that…' I murmured, staring at the sky subtly mould its colour from night to morning. Even without looking at him, I could tell a soft smile of happiness rest on his lips.

'Well,' he said, reaching out to place his hand on mine and affectionately squeeze my fingers. 'We're finally here…'

I gazed at his hand resting on mine, and curled my fingers to entwine them with Kenny's. In the horizon, the deep wine red had turned into beautiful bright orange. A small sun was rising, casting a light of reflection on the sea, a line of ray that reached right through to us.

'Hallelujah…' The word slipped out from between my lips as I stared into the rising sun.

'Huh?' Kenny looked at me with confusion in his eyes. I looked at him with a similar expression, not even realising the word I had just said. 'What did you say?'

'Did I just say something?'

'Yeah. You said "hallelujah".'

'Oh.' The sun rose to suddenly shine in Kenny's eyes, turning the summer blue sky into something gently burning into me. I turned my head to see the sun in the distance, shining in every colour that had been missing in me for so long, yet existed, always. 'Oh…'

A single disregarded tear fell out of my eye and slid down my still cheek. I had finally found out its true meaning.

'Hallelujah…'

'I thought you said that you didn't believe in your religion anymore Kyle,' Kenny smiled, as if happy that something truly dear had returned to me.

'No, Kenny. It's not that. I still have trouble finding the faith for my religion inside me now but… just because I don't believe in my religion, doesn't mean that I don't believe in God.' I took my eyes off the sun and turned back to the light in Kenny's eyes looking into me with deepening confusion. But still, it was much more beautiful than the rising sun.

Hallelujah. Praise the lord.

.

'Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything?' Stan called from the truck, his hands on the back flap, ready to shut.

'No, we're sure!'

'Fine then,' he answered, flipping the metal plate up to secure our luggage in.

'I feel a little bad, you know?' I muttered as I left the Montauk house with Kenny beside me. 'I feel like we've neglected Stan the whole time. Left him in the dark with nothing to do.'

'Oh, he's fine—' Kenny dismissed. 'He had a much more satisfying holiday than you could imagine.'

'Really?' But as I looked at the brunet, it was true. I couldn't find a shadow of dissatisfaction anywhere around him. And as I looked at him, I noticed a feeling inside me, another form of love.

'Remember Kenny, when you said that you thought that Stan loved me, and that with me loving him we would eventually get together?' I felt him twitch in my hold. 'And then I said that that didn't matter anymore?'

'Yeah…' He muttered, a conflict of emotions inside him.

'Well, I think that there will always be a part of me that will love him, like it's a part of who I am. But that doesn't matter. Not now, not anymore. Because that feeling is insignificant, compared to the other feelings that I have. No matter what he feels for me, and what I feel for him. Because I can't escape you, and I don't think I ever will.'

He smiled softly beside me.

'Don't you mean that, you can't escape _your_ _feelings_ _for_ me?'

'Same thing…' A small blush hinted my cheeks, drawing another laugh from Kenny's mouth.

'Oh, this holiday couldn't have been better!' He chuckled. 'But truly… We have come so far.'

I looked at my own two feet secured on the ground, moving forward to the orange truck, and then to Kenny's hand now connected to my own.

'Yeah. We have.'

In that short journey at Montauk I had learnt so much, and had come so far. I had learnt acceptance, and that had brought me back to life. And then I noticed, that maybe I had never been dead all along.

That maybe I just couldn't accept that fact that I was alive.

* * *

**A.N- One… more… chapter… left. And when I update it, I would have finished my exams. Forever. So, it's something extra to look forward to! **

**Thank you readers.**

**Thank you lovely reviewers. **

**My updates are dedicated to you. No, really. Because otherwise the story would probably lie forever asleep in my computer for ever! Mwahahahahaa! Sorry. Ignore me. I am in a weirdly heavy and sadly empty feeling right now. Graduation does that sometimes. **

**Hope to see you next week. Salut. **


	22. Chapter 22

**A.N- I was happy when I found out that Kyle's middle name "Isaac" (I've heard that somewhere, dunno if it's true) meant "he will laugh". Isn't that nice?**

**Final chapter. I want to hug each and every one of your guys who have come this far. **

**I hope you enjoy**—

* * *

'_Maybe there's a God above_

_But all I've ever learned from love_

_Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you_

_It's not a cry you can hear at night_

_It's not somebody who has seen the light_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah'_

_-Leonard Cohen, "Hallelujah"_

Step 99: Say Goodbye

_Chapter Twenty-Two: Blue Beginning_

Language of flowers for Lycoris radiata, part two:

"Passion", "Independence", "Reunion".

.

He loved me; I could accept that now. But still I didn't know if he loved me so much that it became hate, or if he hated me so much that it became love. To this day, I still don't know.

All I know is that there are many different forms of love, and you can't let your fear for one of them keep you from accepting another. After all, it was love that saved me, no matter how cliché that sounds. It was love that killed me, and loved that resurrected me.

And there were also many forms of love inside me.

I walked through the hollow hallway of the hospital. The white walls reflecting all sorts of brightness, casting a strong light onto my exposed heart.

When I opened the door, the echoing of my footsteps and the blinding light suddenly stopped, and all I could see was an empty bed and a wheelchair facing the window in the middle of the white.

'Hi Eric.'

There was no answer. Not even a twitch in his muscle at my words. He may have been asleep, but that was no concern of mine, because if he were, he would have seen me in his sleep, speaking exactly the same words to him.

'I have been thinking for a very long time now. About you and me. About us. Each of my sleepless nights were reserved for that. But in the end, there was only one thing that I could come up with.' I was standing right behind him, feeling the breeze that entered through the open window flow past gently.

'I love you Eric. I always have. That is not the same way I love Kenny, or even Stan, but there is a strong feeling inside me reserved for you only, and it's not simple enough to call it hate. It's much more complicated than that. It is something strong enough to have killed me, to make me sacrifice myself for you.

'I always told myself that I kept quiet, that I didn't tell anyone about what you were doing to me, because I didn't want anyone to know. The humiliation, the fear to crush everyone's image of me, and the fear of what you might do to me— the list is endless. But there is the one true reason why I never told anyone. It's because I love you.'

A small gasp escaped my mouth as I felt something caress my hand, but then I relaxed, as I noticed it was only the breeze flowing in from the open window Eric was facing.

'But that doesn't matter now. It's all over. I might never lose the pain but I can lose you. You can try all your best, come into every single one of my nightmares and attack me every night, but that's not the same. You will never get me again. You will never see me again. It is over. _We_ are over.'

I slowly turned with the breeze, putting my back onto the one person that I hated more than anybody in the world, the one person I wanted to kill, yet the one person that I loved at the same time. My footsteps didn't echo around the room as I walked away, but instantly fell into silence one after the other. I placed my hand on the door handle, and the exit slid open only too easily.

'Good bye Eric,' I turned one last time, no emotion leaking out of me as I did.

Good bye. Forever. With love.

The door closed in between us, echoing heavily. A sudden sense of overwhelming attacked my body. I collapsed my back onto the door behind me, and tried to breathe every single agonising breath.

Slowly, as I began to regain my breath, I looked up. My fingers pushed my scarred back off of the door, and I stood onto my own two feet.

The echoing of my footsteps were clear again as I made my way through the white hallway, distancing away from Eric, one step at a time. And through my nose, I hummed that one song that was sang to me by the very two people who loved me. The sorrow of it was strangely relieving, because even if _it had to be you_, it was never meant to be. And if that made you be blue, then that was the price you paid.

Because I already paid mine.

.

'Well, I am glad to hear that Kyle. I am truly relieved, and happy, for you.'

'Thank you…' The smell of old books mixed in with the fumes of the tea filled my lungs with a sense of happy remorse. A distant hint of lemon caressed my tongue, and I let out a soft breath of relaxation. 'But I have to say, I am sorry that I hadn't contacted you in so long. To be honest, I couldn't. I might have blamed you somewhere deep down, for the beginning of Eric's whipping. I sometimes have the tendency to do that. Blame people, I mean.'

'Oh, it's okay Kyle. It's completely understandable. I am just glad that you are here again, now, talking to me about your progression.'

I smiled, invisibly, yet strong in my heart.

'Thank you, Sophie,' I said again.

'So, when are you leaving for university? I heard that you have done very well.'

'Yeah,' I blushed slightly, looking up at the corner of the ceiling, 'I am leaving next week actually. I have already found a place to stay in California; I'm going to share a flat with a couple of guys. I haven't met them before, but I guess it will be a good change. And it will force me to, you know, talk to people.'

'Well, it's good to hear that you are confident enough to do that!' She chuckled softly, her voice small, yet complete delight to my ears.

'I'm going to learn psychology you know?' I murmured as a still, quiet warmth settled in my heart. 'My mind has been messed up for so long, but now I know that there are so many people out there like me. And maybe…' I didn't know how to put it into words. The subtle, yet definite feeling that was in my heart.

'Yes Kyle, I understand.' Sophie Rogers smiled. 'I think it is a lovely idea. And I hope it goes well.'

The words were on the top of my tongue, but a small blush on my cheeks had stopped me from making them into words. That Sophie Rogers had inspired me a little to set me into that path that I chose to take.

'Thank you,' I said instead, the last of the countless times to Sophie Rogers.

'Thank you too Kyle. Thank you for sharing your story with me. I hope we meet again.'

'Yeah,' I smiled, getting up onto my feet. 'Good bye Sophie.'

'Good bye Kyle.'

.

The shadow of summer was nowhere to be seen, in fact, that year the first snow was quite early.

'Jesus fucking Christ, it's only mid-September!' Kenny groaned, biting his white breath releasing into the air. But unlike Kenny, I was dancing around in the freezing air, my white breath twirling around my flowing body.

'Look Kenny! Snow!' I sang, as if I had never seen the cold white fluff before in my life, which was ridiculous since I practically lived in the thing. I danced my way to the front door and knocked melodically on the wood.

'Hey Stan!' I called as the door opened wide.

'Oh, hey Kyle, is it time already? Jesus Christ, is it snowing?'

'Yeah!' I hopped out from the cover to spin under the snow. My movements made Stan laugh, softly though, with a tinge of sadness.

'God Kyle, you're acting like you're about to start elementary, not university.'

I blinked at him once. 'No Stan. I'm going to university. I'm leaving South Park. I'm leaving everything!' My hands flew up into the air, catching frozen fluff on my palms.

'Leaving Kenny…'

I froze, then slowly moved my widening eyes back onto Stan. There was still a smile there, that sad, accepting smile.

Carefully, I turned to face Kenny, who was still mumbling towards the snowing sky.

'No…' The word leaked out of me. 'I'm not leaving Kenny.'

'What? I thought you were leaving today? Isn't that why you're here?'

'Yeah, but…' firm warmness began to leak into my frozen heart. 'I'm not leaving Kenny.'

I turned back to Stan, with a clear, spotless mind. It drew a confused and resigned sigh out of him.

'I guess I know what you mean.' He shrugged, but before he could completely lose the tension in his shoulders I flung my arms around them, making him completely freeze.

'Thank you Stan…' I murmured into his heat. 'Thank you.'

'Jesus, dude, don't do this…'

'Why?' I blinked.

''Cause, you're gonna totally make me cry,' he chuckled, wrapping his arms around me, but with a hint of a sob already in his voice. Staring into that moment, I tightened my arms around him, and then slowly let go.

'Bye Stan.' I whispered, our faces barely an inch apart. The smile had dropped from my face as I stared into his glistening eyes intently.

'Bye Kyle…'

I lightly pressed my lips onto his, and then unwrapped my hands and let go.

'What was that about?' Kenny asked as he waved to Stan. I hopped into his truck and secured myself into the seat next to him.

'Just a farewell.' I murmured, looking out the front window and into the white road ahead. The truck roared to life, and we started our short journey to the train station. I flicked the cassette player on with enough time for one song, and the gentle notes of Chopin's piano filled our ears.

_Étude_ Op. 10 _No_. _3_, in E major.

'"Tristesse",' Kenny stated the name of the song, 'What does that even _mean_?'

'French for "sadness",' I answered nonchalantly, although I knew it wasn't a true question. 'But I like to call it by its other name.'

'It's other name?' Slowly Kenny's scrunched-up face loosened in realisation. 'Oh…'

'Do you think I'm dramatising this whole situation?'

'No—' he gasped quickly, 'No, it's— it's nice…'

I chuckled softly, followed in by Kenny's slightly louder ones. But his laughs were quickly drowned in by a heavy silence that weighed his heart.

'Can you promise me one thing Kyle?' Kenny's voice asked quietly. 'Promise me you'll sleep at night?'

I twitched my eyebrow.

'Don't I now?'

'Yeah, but— don't just pretend you are. I mean, I know you still have nightmares, but promise me, even when I'm not there, that you won't go back to your previous habit.'

'I won't,' I dismissed bitterly, but then the tension instantly fell into quiet relaxation. 'I _will_ sleep, don't worry.'

'And while you're at it, promise you'll eat properly, and I don't just mean an apple for dinner. And please, try and stop cutting yourself. Just… try. Oh and—'

'I thought you just said "one" thing?' I chuckled at the endless list he was giving me.

'And please keep in touch,' he finished his list, cutting my laughter off short. 'But if you really do want me to sum it up in one thing, then I guess, "take care"?' He gave me a quick smile, before returning his quiet gaze back on the road.

Before I knew it, the truck had stopped, and the music had stopped. We had arrived at the lonely train station covered in a coat of pure white.

'Okay.' I whispered my strong will. 'Okay, I promise.'

We stared at each other for one frozen moment, looking into the vow we had just made. A small smile crept onto Kenny's lips, and he nodded acceptingly, before opening the truck door.

'You know, I still can't believe that this is all you have,' Kenny muttered, pulling my single suitcase behind him and indicating to the bag strapped around my shoulder.

'This isn't everything. My books should have been sent to my flat, I have everything there.'

'"Everything" as in your course materials, right.'

'Well _you_ can't talk, your house is practically empty.'

'_Now_ it is…'

My eyes grew wide and I looked at him as if the words had surprised me, and found myself staring into his slightly saddened smile.

'It's going to be lonely without you Ky,' he murmured as we arrived on the platform. There was no one else there, whether it was because of the time and place, I don't know. But there was only me and him now, standing in the beautiful white silence.

'I know,' I muttered, many feelings now beginning to conflict inside me. 'I will miss you too.'

Another silence, almost an awkward one, closed in between us, but only because I could feel more words lurking on Kenny's tongue wanting to slide out.

'You know, I have been thinking…' he began with that strange awkwardness, 'about what you said on the beach.'

—Oh…

'Hallelujah?'

'Yeah, that one.'

I felt the warmness of my breath and the coldness of the air mix in together and attack my lips, so I licked them as I saw the memory rush through my mind.

'The summer before you came back to South Park,' I slowly began, 'I met a French boy in Ottawa. He was traumatised, similar to me, and we created a, something, something special between us during the small time that we were together. He was the first person I ever told about my suffering, and I was the first person he told all of his suffering, all of it. He gave me a sense of strength that has always been inside me since then. And I think that I too, was able to give him something.'

A soft, slightly embarrassed chuckle escaped my mouth.

'He was the one that said that I was like a Lycoris radiata, the flower of my tattoo, and he even gave me one real one when we parted.'

I could hear Matthieu's voice as loud and clear as the second he said them to me.

'And when we parted, his last word to me was "hallelujah", in French. I always wondered why he ever said that to me. He left Christianity and became a Buddhist, so why "praise the lord"? But then finally, I guess I found out the meaning unconsciously on the beach.'

I looked into his still confused eyes, but the blue inside were shining as clear as ever.

'God, is love and forgiveness, Kenny. God is love, and love is God. That is why I said it to you. You _are_ my hallelujah.'

I could hear the cluttering of the train in the distance, but it didn't do anything to our connected eyes. I could see in Kenny's icy-blue orbs that he wanted this moment to last forever, and truthfully, I wanted it to as well.

The train stopped with a loud cry, the smoke from the wheels trailing along our legs and back, dancing around us. Without a single word, I turned and took my step onto the train, taking my suitcase out of Kenny's limp hand and carrying it with me.

There was a strange sense of fulfilment inside me, like I had said everything that could had ever mattered, even though there was still so much that I hadn't said yet. My feet stepped around, and now I was facing Kenny again, the black gap in between the train and the platform dividing us apart.

The piercing sound of the whistle announced the time for my departure and in any second, the doors would close in between us. The frozen air soaring thought the open doors pierced my skin and made my scars throb underneath my baggy coat. But the snow was gentle and soft that day; it felt like feathers brushing my cheeks. It was a nice feeling that filled my heart.

As the whistle rang, a sudden realisation hit Kenny, and he scavenged his bag to take something rectangular and heavy out and slipped it into my hands. With confusion, I took it, and as I did his lips parted open, only to shut before any words could come out. But then he parted them again.

'Kyle, I—'

It became the last thing he gave me, those words, before the doors shut on him. The continuous beeping was our count down. A soft smile rested on my lips, and I nodded once, deeply, receiving a wide, bright smile from the blond in return.

On the other side of the doors, on the other side of the glass, Kenny pressed his hand onto the frozen surface. The beeping was still in our ears. His lips moved again, and then this time, I could hear it clearer than ever.

I outstretched my own hand, slightly smaller and paler, and placed it on top of his, divided by the glass. But I thought I could feel his warmth and the gentleness of it. The train moved, and it disappeared. But it was still there. It came with me.

I watched his blue eyes as we were slowly drawn away from each other, until the end.

The cluttering of the train, the rocking of its movements filled my body, and the gentle smile and icy-blue eyes were nowhere to be seen. With a short, soft sigh, I readjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder and moved into my compartment.

I shoved the heavy rectangular thing that appeared to be a book, into my bag and moved to my seat. A kind man helped me lift my suitcase into the shelf above, and quite amazingly, I was able to say 'thank you'. It was tensed, and I bet he would have never imagine how much it took for me to say those three words to a stranger, but I was able to say it nonetheless. I would be using it a lot more from then on, so I needed to get used to it, I thought.

My seat was by the window. The view had already turned into speed-lines by the time I sat down. The station was already in the distance, impossible to make out any details. But I swear I saw him still standing there. I didn't feel sorrow as the station merged into the horizon. No tears began to well up or anything.

I was human, and alive enough to feel the sense of loneliness, but it was not tristesse. It was just a farewell. It was filled with hope, and a sense of wonderful longing for the day that we will meet again. With an excited smile on my lips, I leaned my forehead against the icy-cold window and closed my eyes, suddenly feeling a warm heat caress my eyelids.

I listened to my breath, my heartbeat, and every sense and sound inside me that proved that I was alive, until it would finally draw me into sleep. But at that second I flung my eyes open and flipped out my phone, remembering one important thing that I had forgotten to do.

_To: Kenny. _

_Subject: One good thing that happened today._

I looked at the three words intently on the screen, feeling them fill me up, to complete me.

"_I am alive."_

With a smile still on my lips, I pressed send, and relaxed deeply into the back of the seat. And with a strange feeling caressing my mind, I fished out my bag and dug my hand in, immediately taking it out with the book Kenny had given me.

The cover was plain, thick, but plain. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at it from up to down, before finally opening the cover.

A small piece of paper fell out.

As further confusion entered me, I took it and read through the familiar writing that belonged to Kenny.

"_Hey Kyle. This is an album Stan made with the photos he took at Montauk. He asked me to give it to you because he was too much of a pussy to do it himself."_

A soft laugh escaped my mouth and I flicked through the pages of the album with my free hand to find countless photographs stuck neatly into the book.

There were smiles. A lot of them. So many in fact, that I never knew that I could be smiling so much, but in most of those, I had Kenny beside me.

But they weren't all smiles. There was a photo of me apparently screaming. One wrapped in nothing but a white sheet and wondering around aimlessly. There was even one of me with tears streaming down my face.

There were photos with me on the piano from different angles, when I did that small private concert for them at the house on the last night. There was one of the breakfast table, one of the beach. There was one of the back of Kenny and my head in the truck, and a photo of me and Kenny sleeping close together deeply in the sheets. And then my hand stopped, as one photo caught my eye.

My hand moved to my cell phone and I sent another message to Kenny.

"_And I have a great friend."_

I stared at the last photo sitting there so lively, yet so simply on the page.

It was a photo of two connected hands. You couldn't see who they belonged to, but it was only too obvious. Too much so, that I smiled and turned the piece of Kenny's paper accidently, to find more of the blonde's messy handwriting written on the back.

"_P.S I love you."_

I sighed softly with content, with something much heavier weighing on my heart. I created another message, and sent it to Kenny as I stared out the changing scenery of the window.

I had pain, terrible nightmares that sometimes threatened me to something worse than death. But I was alive. I had a great friend. I had a future ahead of me, a life to live.

And finally, I had Kenny, I had him all along. It was what had kept me going until then, and what would keep me going from then on. Through all kinds of blue days, he gave me a reason to live through every one of them.

He gives me a reason to live through today.

* * *

**A.N- Truly, deeply, thank you for coming this far, sticking to this story to the end. And for each and every review, I couldn't be more grateful. I loved reading your opinions and comments and I know I'm greedy to say I want to read more. So if you could leave me a final comment on this story, I will be… so happy. **

**I was actually going to do a sequel, or at least make this story a little longer with college ahead, but I thought this was a good ending and leave it to your imagination. **

**Thanks for reading. Enjoy your day, even if it's blue. **

**—Koi.**


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